Bruce's Excuses
by ThisLooksLikeAJobForMe
Summary: Or "Six times he could have kissed her, and one time he did". Zoey Monroe does not have a clue what she did to deserve this invite to the Winter Ball at Stark Tower, and she is definitely going to put her heel through this dress, and she is probably going to have a stress induced heart attack...but at least the floppy haired doctor sat in the corner is sweet. Bruce/OC, romcom.
1. 1 - We Barely Know Each Other

**Bruce's Excuses  
**_**Bruce/OC – Movieverse**_

**1 – We Barely Know Each Other**

**I should be focussing on my Loki/OC story right now, but this is the best plot bunny I've had in a long time, and I want to get it written down before it goes stale. Not big on plot, mainly just fluff, but I hope you like it anyway! Note: Mark Ruffalo is 45, but in this story Bruce is around 40. NB. This story is fully written in advance and I'm editing before uploading. Just so you know. And if any of you are editing pros and fancy making me a cover photo, that'd be lovely.**

**I don't own the Avengers or Bruce Banner; I only own the plot of this story and Zoey. She's confused, bless her.**

_21__st__ December 2012._

I, Zoey Monroe, was still in shock.

You'd think that three weeks after I'd received the invitation, I'd have gotten used to the idea. After shelling out $200 on a dress, and borrowing $150 from friends and family for shoes and a bag, I should have accepted it. But I hadn't. I'm a 23 year old English graduate, for crying out loud. I don't even have a job! Sure, I finished in the top 5% of Columbia's class of 2012, but still. I've done nothing to deserve to be invited to the (in)famous Tony Stark's Christmas party.

To be frank, I still have no idea how it happened. One minute I was circling job ads in the local paper...the next I was picking up an embossed envelope that contained a ticket for myself and a plus one to attend the Winter Ball at Stark Towers.

I cast a critical eye over my reflection in the cracked mirror, frowning. The dress looked lovely, hugging my body in all the right places, the midnight blue colour making my too-pale skin look almost translucent. My smoky eyes matched the dress, and my coppery hair was poker straight, brushing my collarbones as I walked. I looked good, and I knew it. But I was terrified, and the expression on my face coupled with my nervous posture made that all too obvious. My mind raced at a thousand miles an hour, listing all the things that could go wrong. Maybe I'll fall over. I could have got the dress code completely wrong. Someone else might be in the same dress. I'd arrive and be told that there had been a mistake: '_there's no Zoey Monroe on the guestlist, ma'am, I'm afraid you'll have to leave'_.

I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. Maybe it would be better if I just stayed at home...

"Monroe! I know exactly what you are thinking and you are not bailing on _Tony. Freaking. Stark's. _Christmas party! This is the best damn thing that's ever happened to you and you know it." A whirlwind in baby pink flew into my room, grabbing my hands and pulling me up from where I was sat on the end of my bed. Victoria Kay (_'Jesus, call me Tori, I'm not some English tea-and-crumpets monarch!'_) was my best friend, but her constant exuberance was tiresome. "Girl, you are going to crease your dress to hell if you don't sort your posture out." I batted her hands away, laughing.

"Alright then Queen Vic." I teased and ducked to avoid the smack that was aimed at my head. She wasn't my original plus one, but when things had fallen through a couple of weeks ago, she stepped in, swept up the broken glass and then practically set fire to it. You'd never guess that this was the girl who'd spent the first two years of college stoned out of her mind, begging favours and cash from all the people who tirelessly covered for her. She'd changed so much. And thankfully, it was for the better.

"Damn, we look hot." She smirked happily at me and bumped her hip against mine. "We're gonna have all those sexy men drooling at our feet, and Tony Stark will realise that we're a must for every party he throws for the rest of forever." She collapsed into a fit of giggles and I frowned at her.

"Are you okay, Tori?" She covered her mouth as her giggles continued. "Are...are you drunk?!"

"Nooo..." Shaking my head, I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the kitchen, switching the coffee machine on. "Okay okay, I may have had a couple of pre-party drinkies. But only two. Or maybe it was three..."

"Or more." I spied a half empty bottle of tequila on the counter and sighed. "Dammit Victoria."

"Don't be mad, Zo. You know that I love you and I'm super mega grateful for you letting me be your plus one." I handed her a mug of strong coffee, wincing as I remembered the last person to say _'You know that I love you...' _to me.

"Just drink. We need to get going." She nodded into her mug, smothering a fresh fit of the giggles with a too-big mouthful of coffee. I left her snorting into the coffee to check my lipstick and to grab my bag and coat, making sure that the invitation was tucked inside my purse. If Tori was already drunk...tonight was going to be a long night.

**~X~**

"Can you just act mostly sober until we get inside?" I hissed as we stepped out of the taxi. She nodded, immediately stumbling on the curb and grabbing onto my arm to keep herself upright. I gritted my teeth as I looped her arm through my elbow and pasted a smile onto my face as I approached the imposing doorman.

"Name." He grunted.

"Zoey Monroe." I answered, hoping that my voice was as confident as I wasn't feeling. He tapped a tablet a couple of times before nodding.

"The elevators will take you up. Don't press any buttons. Present your invite at the door." I smiled and stepped through the doors of Stark Tower. Tori waggled her fingers at the doorman and I elbowed her sharply.

"Behave, for Christ's sake, at least until we get upstairs." She nodded solemnly. I managed to get us into an elevator without any mishap, and grinned at the very British voice that welcomed us.

"Can you hold the doors please?" I heard a shout and jammed my hand between the automatic doors that had just begun to shut. A man with tanned skin and salt-and-pepper hair jogged across the lobby and into the lift, smiling at me gratefully. "Thanks."

"No problem. You here for the party?" I asked, taking in his rumpled attire that didn't seem to quite match the 'black tie' dress code.

"No, I uh, I work here. I need to go up to my lab to collect a couple of things." He flipped down a hidden panel next to the floor numbers, and pressed a button that flashed as it recognised his thumbprint.

"This close to Christmas?" He shrugged.

"I'm not really one for festivities." Tori let out a snort and I glared at her. "Is she okay?" The man gestured towards her, concern creasing his forehead.

"She's fine." I ground out, digging my elbow into her hip. She pouted at me, her eyes glassy. "She just had a couple of drinks to calm her nerves on an empty stomach." He nodded understandingly. The doors opened onto what was clearly the party floor and I stepped out of the lift.

"You have a nice night." The floppy haired man smiled.

"You too." I replied as the doors shut.

"He was cute." Tori sniggered and I sighed.

"Look, just keep quiet until we get in there and then you can do what you like, okay? I don't want to get us thrown out before I've found out why I was invited." She cleared her throat and smoothed her baby pink puffy dress down, toying with the hemline that fell to a couple of inches above her knees. We approached the door, and I handed the heavy invite over to the well-dressed doorman – a long shot from the huge hunk of muscle out the front, dressed in a white evening suit.

"Zoey Monroe and her plus one. Thank you for coming. All drinks are on Mr Stark tonight, and there are nibbles by the east wall. You can leave your coats in the cloakroom to your right. Have a nice evening!" He handed the invite back and I smiled at him, pulling Tori through the doors and into the most extravagant party I've ever been to. The biggest party I'd been to before was at one of the frat houses in my second year, and it paled into insignificance next to this. Tori slipped her arm out of mine and headed straight over to the bar. I shook my head after her. Well, it's her funeral. Even though I would be the one who would have to force her into a taxi and clean up her vomit when we got back to the flat. I left my coat on a hook in the cloakroom and stepped into the bathroom to check that my face hadn't melted since I last looked at it. I wiped away a stray smear of mascara, set my shoulders and went out to mingle.

In the course of my mingling, I found many important CEOs of companies that I had never heard of, several people who claimed they were the 'head of their field' (whatever that meant), four Olympians, one man who seemed set to spend the entire evening bemoaning the fact that he hadn't won the Oscar he'd been nominated for and countless journalists. I spent the longest time with an intern at the New York Times, and left with a promise that she'd put in a good word for me if I ever applied for a job there.

I weaved my way through the crowd and ordered a sparkling apple juice at the bar. While I was waiting for my drink, I used the slightly raised area as a podium to look for Tori. No sign of her. Dammit. I hoped she had her phone on her. I saw the famed Tony Stark standing in the centre of the room, a glass of champagne in one hand and the other resting on Pepper Potts' hip. He was holding court, a constant stream of people waiting for a sarcastic comment or empty promise. I shook my head wryly. The events of earlier in the year, the 'Battle of Manhattan' (as the media had taken to calling it), had only inflated his ego. I scanned the room, raising my eyebrow as I saw a tall man with chiselled features and blonde hair that could only be Captain America (or as he was referred to within our clique, 'Captain Booty'). I wondered idly whether to supposed rivalry between him and Stark was as huge as the media made out. Accepting my drink, I edged around the throngs of people to the wall, keeping it close to my side as I found a secluded table in the corner of the room. I sat, perfectly content to people watch on my own, when I sensed someone making their way towards me.

"Mind if I join you?" I looked up and saw the soft spoken man with the floppy hair from the elevator a couple of hours ago. He was wearing the same slightly crumpled purple shirt, but had added a black tie, black trousers and a suit jacket.

"Sure. Didn't you say you were working tonight?" He pulled out a chair and sat down, fiddling with his tie.

"I planned to, but Tony was having none of it."

"Tony Stark dragged you down here? Like, personally?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. He laughed.

"Tony is very invested in forcing me to socialise." His voice was slightly rueful.

"So you work with him?" He nodded. "I didn't catch your name earlier." I gently hinted.

"That was rude of me, I didn't introduce myself." I waved his almost apology away. "Bruce Banner."

"Zoey Monroe." I shook the hand he proffered, mentally noting the name for research later. If he worked with Tony Stark and not for Tony Stark, there must be more to the guy than floppy hair and a mild smile.

"So what brings you here, Zoey Monroe? What landed you your coveted invite?" He took a sip from his glass (I guess cider or beer).

"Honestly? I do not have a clue." He raised an eyebrow. "No, really! I graduated this year and I haven't even managed to get a job yet. I've done nothing to attract the attention of Mr Stark! I was certain it was some sort of mix up right up until they let me in!"

"Where did you graduate from?" Bruce looked interested, but maybe he was just a very good actor.

"Columbia – I majored in English, minored in Journalism." I reached for my glass as he nodded.

"Were you by any chance top of your year?"

"Not quite, I was in the top 5% though." I said, feeling like I should be more modest but not having a clue how to play it down.

"That'll be it then. Pepper had Tony invite a selection of the highest achievers from all the local schools, something about picking up talent before talent got snapped up by other companies." I smiled to myself. Apparently I was 'talent'. "Where's your friend?"

"Tori? I have no idea, she disappeared as soon as we arrived. I'll call her in a while, make sure she's not lying in a gutter somewhere..." We sat in silence for a few more minutes, looking out on the hoards of people, sipping our respective drinks...all my past experience told me that this should be awkward but it wasn't. It was...nice. "So, what do you do?"

"Huh?"

"You work with Tony Stark, that I know, but what do you do?" Small talk. I'm getting good at this whole civilised thing.

"I'm a doctor. Medical mostly, now – I did some work with uh, radiation, but it wasn't really for me." Bruce was suddenly very interested in his hands.

"So are you like, Mr Stark's personal doctor then?"

"No, I help him in the R&D department. The last time I practised medicine for a living was nearly a year ago now, in Calcutta."

"You were a doctor in Calcutta?" I asked, surprised. He nodded. "Wow...that must be quite hard."

"Actually, I much preferred the environment there." Bruce smiled as if there was some sort of joke that I missed. I suddenly felt self conscious.

"I'm sorry about all the questions, you must think I'm terribly nosy." I blushed lightly under my makeup.

"No, it's okay. It's quite nice, actually. Round here...it's kinda difficult to have a 'normal' conversation." He shot a smile at me, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I noted how his smile lit up his 'old' face, making the wrinkles less obvious and the sprinkling of grey hairs sort of...fade.

"Brucey boy! Good to see you out of the lab buddy, though I had hoped you wouldn't secrete yourself in the darkest corner of the room." A loud voice cut across the conversation and I looked up in shock to see Tony Stark himself strutting towards us, leaving Pepper to talk to whichever executive or Senator he'd just deserted. I felt my heart pounding in my chest – it had never occurred to me that being invited to this party might mean _actual interaction with Tony Stark_. "I see you've made a friend." I felt like a rabbit caught by headlights. "What's your name?"

"Zoey. Zoey Monroe. It's great to meet you, Mr Stark." I stuttered.

"I won't have any pretty ladies call me Mr Stark, it's demeaning; call me Tony." _Oh god no he's flirting with me what do I do help._ "So what are you then, Zoey Zoey Monroe-y? I'm thinking child prodigy, director of some massive company...a media mogul. Now am I right or am I right?"

"Actually, I'm just an English graduate. I minored in journalism though." I felt very very small.

"Minored in journalism! I was right! Where's my prize?" Bruce chuckled and I smiled slightly, still feeling completely overwhelmed by the fact that _Iron Man_ was _FLIRTING_ with me. I mean, from what I've heard, he flirts with everyone, but it was still kinda...okay, very...flattering. "Where are you working right now? I'm betting NY Times have already snapped you up, you being in the top 5% of your year and all." I coughed.

"I uh, I'm actually between jobs at the moment." I felt my cheeks turn hot with embarrassment at my apparent inability to find employment.

"That won't do at all. I'll speak to Pepper, we'll get you hooked up with something." I felt my jaw drop as Mr Sta- _Tony_ turned to Bruce. "It's great that you're out and about and all, but I want you home by midnight. Call me if you're bunking over anywhere, and don't do drugs."

"Yes _Mom_." Bruce mocked as Tony clapped him on the back and swayed away, grabbing a fresh glass of champagne from a waiter. Bruce turned back to me and laughed at my face. "Yes, he is always like that."

"Did he just...offer me a job?" I squeaked.

"In his own way, yes. Yes he did." He noticed my glass was empty and gestured to it. "Can I get you another?" He seemed awkward, like he was out of practise in talking to members of the opposite sex.

"Yes please." I smiled at him as I gave him the glass, his hand brushing mine. It was very warm. "Just sparkling apple juice, please."

"Staying sober to make up for your friend?" I hesitated slightly before shaking my head.

"No, I don't really drink anymore. My ex had a problem and it kinda put me off drinks with a percentage volume." He nodded, his forehead creasing slightly.

"Be right back." As he made his way through the crowd, I slipped my phone out of my bag and called Tori. After a mostly incomprehensible conversation, I established that she was in the 'club' area of the party by the bar, and that she was 'toshally shober'. Fantastic. Yet another reason why avoiding alcohol was appealing. Bruce didn't need to know that the reason I brought Tori with me was because I finally broke up with my (now ex) boyfriend about two weeks ago, even though I should have done at least six months before that. He didn't need to know that the sorrows I'd normally drown in alcohol had been drowned in ice cream, and as such, I'd had to have my dress for tonight loosened. I didn't want to ruin his night by forcing my petty troubles on him. Bruce seemed like a nice guy; I usually felt really weird talking to guys more than ten years older than me, but I was perfectly at ease in his company, even though I was certain he was (significantly) more than ten years older than me. I barely noticed him sitting back down and putting the drink in front of me.

"Penny for them?" I started slightly and he chuckled. "Your thoughts. Penny for them."

"Oh, it's nothing." He didn't push it, which I was grateful for. "I think it's best that I have this drink and then get Tori home. I have to deal with her hangover in the morning, I'd like to minimise the damage."

"I think the damage was done before you arrived."

"Touché." We tapped our glasses together and drank in silence. "What was it like? Working in Calcutta?" He swallowed.

"You don't ask the usual questions. Normally it's 'What's it like working with Tony Stark?' or 'What do you do while Tony is out saving the day?'" He didn't seem particularly annoyed about the 'usual' questions – more like, he was simply stating facts.

"I've read enough about Stark. Besides, it sounds interesting." I rested my chin on my hand.

"Well, I'm sure you can imagine that it's very different to here. Nearly everyone lives hand to mouth, and a lot of what medical help I could offer was improvisation, because of the limited facilities. It was...difficult, because there were cases where I knew I could help more than I did if I had the appropriate equipment or medication, but at the same time it was peaceful in a way that America is not. It was quiet. Here, I'm Tony Stark's wingman half the time, whereas there, I was just...a doctor." He fell quiet and I instinctively touched his hand.

"I think it sounds great." He grinned and subtly pulled his hand out from under mine. "The most I've ever done to help anyone is raised a hundred bucks for charity."

"It doesn't matter about the scale of what you've done, the important thing is that you've done it." Bruce stared intently at his glass, drawing patterns in the condensation with a finger. I downed my juice and stood up.

"It was lovely to meet you, Bruce. I'd better go extract Tori from whatever alcohol induced stupor she's gotten herself into." I held out my hand and he shook it quickly, smiling. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

"Maybe." His answer was non-committal. I waved awkwardly as I braved the crowds and found the 'club' room, the smell of sweat and alcohol smacking me in the face the moment I stepped in. I saw Tori slumped on the bar and sighed. She never made things easy for me.

"Come on Tor, let's get you home." I pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her waist. She was significantly taller than me, even though I was wearing heels, so we didn't cut the most graceful figure as we stumbled through the room. She was mumbling incoherently, and could barely support her own weight. She was going to be a joy tomorrow morning.

We had reached about halfway across the main venue when I saw Bruce sidle up to me.

"I thought you might be struggling, so I spoke to a member of Security." He nodded to the 6 foot something man besides him and I gratefully peeled Tori off my side and into his arms.

"Be warned, she may try to hit on you, she does that when she's drunk and there are attractive males in the vicinity." I smiled apologetically at the guard.

"Don't worry about it. I work Stark parties, I'm used to ladies who have drunk too much. I'll get her into a cab?" The guard seemed friendly enough, and I didn't think he'd try to cop a feel while Tor was incapacitated.

"That'd be great – and if you could stay with her while I get our coats and make my way down?" He nodded and led her away. I turned to Bruce. "Thanks. I would've managed, but I'd probably have injured one or both of us."

"Don't mention it." Without discussion, he fell in step with me as I headed for the cloakroom. I grabbed Tori's fluffy monstrosity of a coat and pulled mine on with the other hand, smiling at Bruce over my shoulder as he took the fluff from me. "And I guess I should thank you too."

"What did I do?" I grinned.

"You were company. You kept Tony mostly off my back." I lifted my hair out of my collar, tilting my head up as I did so. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something green on the ceiling, and suppressed my blush when I realised what it was. I thought about ignoring it, but Bruce had already followed my gaze. "Mistletoe." I said nonchalantly. He looked...very awkward.

"Ahh..."

"Come on then." I tapped the corner of my mouth. "Where's my kiss?"

"Uh...we barely know each other, I don't think it's right." He wrung his hands together and I smiled.

"Going all shy now, are we Doctor Banner?" I teased and he grinned sheepishly. "Don't worry about it. Tradition is overrated, and I'm fairly certain that that-" I pointed to the innocuous plant, "-is a tradition made purely for horny youths looking for an excuse to make out. It's fine." He smiled gratefully, touched my hand in a friendly gesture before leaving. I shook my head, picked up the fluffy monstrosity and my bag and followed him out the room, going straight for the elevators. I had to get Tori home ASAP – from my experience, we had approximately 30 minutes before the vomiting starts, and I didn't have the money to pay for the taxi to be cleaned as well as the journey fare.

When we arrived at our decrepit apartment building, I leaned forwards, keeping one hand on Tori to make sure she didn't collapse into the seat.

"How much?" I asked, opening my purse one-handed.

"It's covered." The man's voice was gruff but kind.

"What?"

"Stark's got the bill, you get your friend to bed before she throws up all over my car."

"Are you sure?" I couldn't believe it.

"I'm sure, your doctor friend told me that Stark would pay, now go before she does." The driver smiled and I nodded, dragging Tori out of the backseat and waving as he drove away.

"Zoey I don't feel sho good."

"I know, Tor. Come on." I just had to hope that my run of good fortune would include getting my hammered friend to the bathroom in time.

**Please leave me a review and lemme know what you think! ~Saskia xxx**


	2. 2 - You're Drunk

**2 – You're Drunk**

**I'm writing this straight after finishing writing the first chapter – I'm on a roll! Now if only I could apply a similar dedication to my other story...hope you enjoy!**

**This chapter does push the boundaries of the T rating, as it contains Zoey being decidedly unclassy, but I don't write smut. I also have no experience of clubs, due to the fact that I'm 16 years old.**

**NOTE DURING EDITING: Thanks for all the reviews, favourites and alerts etc! I meant to upload this on Wednesday, making it a weekly thing, but I've just started college and I start work next weekend, so my free time is limited, but I'd like to know which day you guys think I should upload on. Also I'm not feeling too great, so please excuse any errors.**

**I don't own anything you recognised – all kudos to Stan Lee, Joss Whedon, etc. I do own Zoey however, and she is not being very responsible at all. Tut tut.**

_14__th__ February 2013._

I looked down at the card on my lap, the faint scent of roses still clinging to it. The actual roses had been thrown down the garbage chute the moment I read the card, but for some reason I hadn't allowed the card to follow them. I opened it again and read the words I'd already memorised for the thousandth time.

_Zoey,_

_Still regretting everything I did wrong. Still getting better. Still thinking of you. Still wish you were with me right now. Still love you._

_Mark  
x_

He hadn't even written in proper sentences, for crying out loud. A couple of personal pronouns or connectives would not have killed him. I ran my finger over the card, feeling the indents where he'd pressed too hard with the pen. He always did that. I knew him well enough to know that these words were ones he'd spent hours...no, more likely days deliberating over; toying with flowery language and sonnets before deciding to keep it simple and to the point. Of course, the words had to contain just the right amount of guilt on his behalf to make me feel twice as bad. I felt my eyes well with tears and brushed at them furiously. I'd cried enough over him. No more. My sanity couldn't afford it.

"Zo! I'm heading out! Don't wait up for me, I think we'll be going back to his after dinner." Tori's voice dripped with innuendo. I knew she wasn't trying to be insensitive, she just had zero tact. I cleared my throat.

"Okay, have fun!" I called. I heard the door slam and curled up in the foetal position in the centre of my bed. I was with Mark for three years. It was completely understandable that I was feeling a little lonely and nostalgic on Valentine's Day; my first single Valentine's Day since I was 15, no less. I looked at my phone. 7pm. All the restaurants would be filling up with happy couples around about now. There would be more than a few proposals tonight. There would also be several rejections. I could watch TV...but the only thing that would be airing would be soppy romantic comedies. Our DVD player was broken, I'd lost the charger for my laptop, and I valued my life too much to consider using Tor's. Looks like that tub of Ben & Jerry's would be disappearing pretty damn quickly. Likewise the stash of chocolate in my bedside table. I sighed as I rolled over, resigning myself to a night of feeling sorry for myself and getting fat. Unless...

In the corner of my bedroom were a pair of shoes I bought in a fit of madness (and under pressure from Tori) the day after I split up with Mark. They were black, shiny, sexy and had a 5 inch heel that I could only just walk in. Tori insisted that they would help. I didn't believe her. I looked back at the clock. It was only just 7pm. I could be out by 9pm. And dance until dawn.

**~X~**

I stepped out of the taxi in front of the classiest of the clubs within a ten mile radius of our apartment. I tugged my very short, very tight black dress down a little further over my fishnet-encased thighs and flipped my hooker-style curls over my shoulder. Tonight, I was going to have fun, and I didn't really care who with. Everyone's allowed a night of 'slutty' behaviour once in a while, right? I was going to get drunk and some guy was going to get lucky, damn the consequences. If I got laid...well, it had been while. I was damned if I was going to spend Valentine's Day alone, and I didn't care how pathetic that may sound. I'm young and carefree.

I walked fairly steadily up to the end of the queue for the club and rubbed my arms to warm myself up. I hadn't bothered with a coat – they only get stolen at clubs. I had my clutch, which contained some money, my ID, keys and some condoms, and that was it. I didn't even bother with my phone. Luckily, the couple of drinks I'd had at home were beginning to make themselves known, and I didn't feel the cold as strongly as I would otherwise. The bouncer stopped me and asked for ID (as always), and I smirked at him as he nodded me in. I sashayed towards the pounding music that was completely unidentifiable, quirking my eyebrow at a group of guys who were wolf whistling. I reached the bar and ordered the cheapest cocktail on the menu, necking it the moment it arrived and gesturing for a refill. I sipped the second drink, surveying the floor of pulsating bodies grinding up against each other. A tall blonde guy caught my eye, and he raised an arm, beckoning me to join him. I downed the nasty drink, smoothed my dress down and took the hand he offered, pressing my body against his as we moved to the music. His hands rested on my hips as his chin dropped onto my shoulder, his slight stubble scratching my cheek.

"You're too sexy to be here on your own." He murmured in my ear and I shivered.

"Well I suppose I should make friends then." I replied. He chuckled, his throat vibrating on the sensitive skin at the back of my neck.

"Does the sexy girl have a name?" He asked.

"Zoey. And what about good looking on my shoulder?"

"Luke."

"Hello Luke." The beat changed slightly, as did our movements – they became faster, less controlled. I pressed into him and was pleased to hear him suppress a groan.

"Can I get you a drink, Zoey?" I tilted my head back to look at him.

"You most certainly can." I breathed as he led me towards the bar, his hand hot and sticky in mine.

"Can we have two vodka shots?" The bartender nodded and slid the glasses towards us, pouring the clear liquid into them expertly. Luke handed one to me and held his out. "To new friends." His eyes said something a lot different, and my eyes smoldered right back. I tapped my glass to his and throw the vodka down my throat, wincing slightly. "Anything else?" I asked for a strong margarita, which he matched, and we drank them in silence, exchanging heated looks every time we caught each other's eye. I was feeling buzzed from the alcohol I'd already consumed, and I was waiting for the vodka to hit my brain so I completely lost my inhibitions – I'd always had a weak spot for it. As we finished the drinks, Luke nodded back towards the dance floor and I hopped down off the bar stool, letting him guide me back to the mass of bodies, his hands tight on my hips, fingers splayed across my abdomen as we moved with the rest of the crowd. I stuck my bum out a bit so I was even more firmly pressed against his crotch and he bit down lightly on my neck.

"You never said if you were here with anyone." I gasped, feeling his mouth moving up my throat.

"I'm here on my own too. Not for much longer though, I think." I turned around in his arms, resting my fingers on his shirt collar. It didn't escape my notice that his hand slipped a little further down on my hips as I turned, or the fact that as our chests pressed together he looked down appreciatively.

"And why might you think that?" His breath was hot, and his mouth tasted like alcohol as he pressed his lips to mine. Almost immediately I felt his tongue running over my lips and I welcomed it, my hands curling around his shirt collar and brushing his skin. He broke the kiss to look for the shortest route to a wall (and later, an exit) and I took the opportunity to press my lips to his jaw, throat, clavicle. He grunted and pulled my face back to his.

"You're killing me, Zoey." He growled against my lips as he guided us towards the wall where several couples were already leaning, making out and...running the bases. Luke pushed me until I felt the cool stone hit my back and then his lips were on mine again. My head was spinning – whether it from Luke's phenomenal mouth work or from the alcohol, I didn't care. I knotted my fingers in his blonde hair, scratching my nails against his skull and he bit my bottom lip, causing me to gasp in surprise. I slid a hand down his chest and slipped it under his shirt, tracing his defined muscles. Here was a guy who spent a lot of time on his abs, and damn, it paid off. I felt one of his hands squeeze my ass and I grinned against his mouth, realising the other hand was sliding up my stomach towards my boobs. He started pressing kisses across my jaw, feather light and shiver-inducing as the hand that was on my bum slipped down my thigh towards my hemline. I felt him suck on my exposed collarbone as his fingers crept under my dress and across the fishnet tights towards my itty-bitty panties, and my head fell back against the wall as I groaned. I twisted my neck to give him better access to where he seemed intent on leaving a hickey and caught the eye of one of the other people pressed against the wall. Specifically, one of the guys.

Mark.

I gasped and hit Luke's back in the universal gesture of 'stopstopsTOPSTOP' and he looked up at me, his eyelids heavy and his pupils dilated.

"I'm sorry..." My voice was tiny. "I have to go." His face fell.

"What the hell? I thought you-"

"I was but I just saw someone I recognise and I have to get out of here _now_." To give him credit, Luke saw the desperation in my eyes and stepped back, letting me pull my dress down from where it had been pushed up and wiped the stray lipstick from around my mouth. "I'm really sorry, you seem like a great guy."

"Don't. Just don't. Get yourself home safe, yeah?" He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a receipt and a pencil. "If you ever wanna...pick up where we just left off...here's my number." I smiled gratefully at him, standing on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, before grabbing the piece of paper and escaping.

I finally got outside and leant against the wall, letting the cold air cool my flushed cheeks. _Dammit_, why did he have to be there and ruin everything? I went to the freaking club to prove to myself that I wasn't still hung up on him, but of course, he had to be there, and he had to look at me with those hurt little puppy dog eyes...stupid bloody alcoholic.

"Zoey!" I punched the wall in anger.

"Mark, just leave me alone, okay?" I shouted towards the voice, my vision blurring slightly until he finally came into focus.

"What were you doing? God knows what that guy was gonna do to you!"

"God knows and so did I, Mark! I'm a consenting adult, do you know what that means? It means I can get off with who I like and I shouldn't have to worry about my good for nothin' ex poking his stupid nose in!" I was verging on hysterical as I pulled my ridiculous shoes off and stumbled down the road. I didn't care where I was heading, as long as it was away from him.

"Babe-"

"Don't call me babe. You don't get to call me babe. Not anymore." I whirled around and poked him sharply in the chest, blinking furiously to clear my eyes of the tears threatening to fall. Angry tears, aka, the worst thing in the world. Make that drunk angry tears, and it's hellish. He grabbed hold of the tops of my arms, forcing me to look at him.

"Tell me you don't love me anymore." His eyes were pleading, begging me to say the opposite. I smiled hugely at him.

"I don't love you anymore. Now let me go, you son of a herpes ridden bitch." I wrenched myself away from him and stalked off down the street, ignoring his cries behind me.

I should have paid attention where I was walking. I knew that if I kept heading east, I'd eventually hit the highway and from there it was a clear route home, but my alcohol-fuddled brain didn't think to warn me against going down the dark side-streets with seedy bars and clubs lighting the way. I blanked the heckling past the first couple of them, but right down the end of the road was a rowdy group of three guys in their late twenties who were filled with liquid confidence.

"Alright there love? Need some company?"

"Lookin' good in that dress sweetheart."

"Bet you'd look better without it."

"Why don't you show us, eh?"

"We're not gonna hurt you."

"We just want to have a little fun."

"Come on babe."

"Don't touch me." I hissed as one of them made a lunge for my backside. I had completely lost my enthusiasm for a night of anonymity and frivolity – I was cold, tired, drunk, I felt ill and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep.

"Ooohoohooo, she's a feisty one, she is."

"All dressed up like that and not up for it?"

"Nahhh lads, look at her, she wants it really."

"Please leave me alone." I shied away from their grabbing hands, feeling a wall come up against my back. Dammit.

"Awww, she wants us to leave her alone, boys."

"She won't be saying that soon."

"She'll be screaming for more."

"She'll be begging for it."

"And we, being the gentlemen that we are, will gladly oblige."

"No, stop..." One of them pushed his hands against my shoulders, pinning me to the bricks. I felt them scraping against my skin and the pain seemed to spur me into action. I swung the hand that was holding my shoes against his head and felt a satisfying jolt as they connected.

"OOOoooowoooOOOooOOWWwWwww you little bitch!" He howled as I took the opportunity to push past them and make a run for it, but one of them grabbed me round my waist, pulling me back against his chest, an arm wrapped across my collarbone and putting pressure on my neck. I screamed as another of them slapped me across the face, and I jerked my head back, noting a crunch against my skull as I broke the guy holding me's nose. He let go and I held my shoes up as weapons, my clutch bag abandoned on the floor.

"Just let me leave, and I won't tell anyone what happened here." My voice sounded a lot more confident than I felt, and I quickly bent down to grab my bag and jam it under my arm. As I straightened, one of them grabbed my wrist and I instinctively windmilled my arm, forcing him to let go, but not before I felt something in my wrist crunch ominously. I was oblivious to the pain however, as the adrenaline and alcohol inspired me to turn and run. I could hear them giving chase, but I pegged it, feeling the pavement smacking into my bare feet with every step. I could sense that the highway was close and I could only pray that I'd reach it before they caught up with me. I turned a corner and tripped, landing painfully on my hands and knees. I cried out, but dragged myself to my feet, when I was suddenly grabbed round my waist and pulled into the shadows of a doorway. I started to scream but a hand covered my mouth.

"Shhh, or they'll hear you." I recognised the voice, and I couldn't think where from, but for some reason I trusted it. I let the man hold me against his chest, hiding my face in his neck as I heard the three guys run past. He loosened his hold and I stepped back, straining my eyes to see my rescuer.

"Bruce?" I asked incredulously.

"Zoey?" His voice mirrored my disbelief.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I asked first!"

"I was at one of the bars. The owner's an old friend of mine. You...you're hurt...and you must be freezing, jesus..." He shrugged off his coat and held it out to me. I slid my arms through the sleeves, suddenly too tired to argue.

"I've been really dumb tonight, Bruce." I said miserably and he frowned.

"No, I'm sure you haven't, you just..." I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe you weren't as smart as you might have been. I uh...can I...uh...I should take you home. Make sure you get there safe."

"I'd appreciate that." I sniffed and he looked conflicted.

"So uh...where do you live?" I looked around us, suddenly realising I recognised where we were. Apparently drunk me was a pretty damn good homing pigeon.

"Down this way and then a couple of left turns, it's not far." I wiped my eyes, feeling gritty mascara under my fingers. "God, I must look a wreck."

"Don't worry about it, I've seen much worse." Bruce hesitantly wrapped an arm around my waist after realising I could barely walk straight and took my bag, leaving me carrying only my shoes.

"You're too kind." I smiled and he tilted his head. "Why are you so nice?" I wondered aloud.

"Because I'm not the sort of guy who suits angry." He said in an undertone, then looked at me guiltily as if he was hoping I hadn't heard. I pasted a clueless look on my face, feigning ignorance. "How far away are we?"

"Five minutes." I mumbled, stumbling slightly and grabbing hold of Bruce's shirt to keep myself from falling. He looked down at me, eyes narrowed slightly.

"I thought you didn't drink." He said accusingly.

"I don't. Well I didn't. I guess it was a phase. It's Valentine's Day and I'm alone, I'm allowed to have a drink if I want to. Or two. Or four. Or more." He laughed.

"Were you out on your own?" I nodded. "Well maybe next time you decide you want to get drunk, make sure there's someone with you? It's all very well and good but tonight hasn't exactly ended very well for you." He gestured to me in general, and I suddenly became aware of everywhere that hurt. My knees, my palms, my wrist, my cheek, my shoulders...

"Ow." I muttered sullenly. He paused and held me at arm's length.

"I'll patch you up before I go home." He decided and I smiled.

"I'm not sure about what you meant about tonight not ending very well. I've got a wonderful guy taking me home." I batted my eyelids overdramatically and he chuckled.

"I'm sure I'm not quite what you had in mind." He replied. I stopped in front of a building, steering Bruce unsteadily towards the door.

"This is me. Fourth floor." He opened my bag and found my keys, blessedly ignoring the foil packets and buzzed the door open. He guided me towards the elevator and summoned it, helping me through the doors when they opened. I stabbed the button for the fourth floor and damn near collapsed into the corner.

"Woah woah woah, are you okay?" The concern in Bruce's voice made me smile.

"I'm just really really drunk and I hurt." I answered and he sighed. As the door opened, he helped me to my feet, wrapping an arm around my waist to support me. "Thank you, Bruce. Really." He nodded.

"Don't mention it. Which door?" I pointed and he unlocked it.

"Tor?" I called weakly. She did say she'd probably be out, but I thought it best to check. When my voice echoed back to me round the clearly empty apartment, I looked at Bruce. "She had a date." He sat me in one of the kitchen chairs and set the coffee machine off. "First aid kit is in the cupboard under the sink." I offered and he crouched to grab it. I shrugged his jacket off, wincing as I moved my wrist. Bruce handed me a mug of coffee and then knelt on the floor, cutting my tights off just above my knees. I laughed suddenly.

"What?" He looked up, his glasses perched adorably on the end of his nose.

"It's just...well, I'd kinda hoped that a guy would be on his knees in front of me tonight but I wasn't thinking it would be quite like this." Bruce's blush only made me laugh harder. "Don't worry. You do what you gotta do, Doc." He shook his head, smiling, as he wiped the cuts on my knees with an antiseptic wipe and pressed Band Aids over them. His attention moved to my hands then, and he gently turned them over, noting my wince as he moved the right one. He cleaned the cut on my left palm, putting yet another Band Aid on it, before assessing the right.

"I don't think it's broken, just sprained, or stressed muscle. I'll wrap it up, but if the pain doesn't subside in a couple of days, get it checked out." I nodded, fascinated by the way he was completely absorbed in his task. "How does that feel?" I waggled my fingers around the bandage and he nodded. "I think your face should be okay, just bruised for a week or so, and the scratches on your back don't look dirty, but make sure you have a shower or bath as soon as possible. Overall, you've been pretty lucky." I suddenly felt ashamed (alcohol always gave me raging mood swings), and stared steadfastly at the bottom of my mug. "You okay?"

"I feel really stupid and I hate to think what you think of me now." I admitted.

"We've all been there, Zoey. Are uh...will you be okay getting into bed, or uh..." He scratched his head awkwardly.

"I'll be fine, Doc. Thank you so much. Can I get you anything?" I looked towards the coffee machine and he shook his head.

"No, I should get home, it's late...I don't want to keep you up any later." He helped me to my feet, which I could feel were slightly sticky with blood from running in just tights, but I figured I could clean them up by myself rather than waste any more of his time. I walked with him to the door and handed him his coat. "Hope you heal up okay, and that your head doesn't hurt to bad in the morning. Drink some water before you go to bed." His eyes were full of concern and I nodded, avoiding his gaze.

"Thank you Bruce. You really are wonderful." He grinned bashfully. "I'm serious. God knows where I'd be right now if you hadn't saved me. My floppy haired Knight." I teased and he flushed. For a moment, I debated asking him to stay the night...I didn't want to be alone...

"I should get going." He opened the front door and turned back to me. "Get some sleep."

"What, don't I get a goodnight kiss?" I pouted and he laughed nervously.

"Uh...Zoey, you're drunk, it wouldn't be fair. Maybe next time?" He smiled shyly, and I knew that he only said that to humour me.

"Yeah, maybe next time. Good night Bruce. Thanks."

"Good night, Zoey."

**Silly Zoey. Hero Bruce. Lemme know what you think! ~Saskia xxx**


	3. 3 - Interlude 1

**3 – Interlude #1: A Favour**

**I'm changing my original plan slightly, and I'm going to include a couple of short (by short, I mean not much more than 1000 words each) chapters from Bruce's POV. We live in Zoey's mind for the majority of the story, so I thought it would be nice to hear Bruce's thoughts about her.**

**Thank you very much for the amazingly positive response to this story, I appreciate it a lot! My apologies for not replying to any reviews in the last week or so, I've started back at college and my free time in dwindling significantly...but I do read every review I get!**

**As always, I don't own anything other than the plot, characters incidental to it and Zoey. Bruce just doesn't know what to say about her.**

**~Bruce's POV~**

_4__th__ April 2013._

I stepped into the lab, rolling my sleeves up absentmindedly. Tony looked up from the suit faceplate he was tinkering with at the sound of my footsteps.

"Oh, hey Doc. Didn't realise you were up." I pulled out one of the stools next to the bench I had been working on earlier in the day and swung one of the screens out in front of me.

"Couldn't sleep."

"I know the feeling." Tony muttered wryly. "I'm flying back to Malibu tomorrow, so you'll be in charge round here." I pulled a face.

"I don't really think that I'm exactly suited to management, Tony."

"Nonsense, it'll be easy, Pepper will still be running everything, you just need to make sure that no one screws up while I'm gone. You'll have Jarvis to help you anyway, and you live here, so it makes sense." I span round on my stool to look at him.

"Yeah, about that...I don't know whether I'm going to hang around for much longer. Manhattan's a bit...noisy for me." Tony sat up, glaring at me.

"Don't you dare disappear off to the back of beyond again! Do you know how difficult it is to have an intelligent conversation round here? If you leave, then I will go literally insane. It's not good for geniuses to have only themselves to talk to, you know."

"You mean you want me around to stoke your ego." Tony pulled a theatrically insulted face.

"I'm offended! I want you around for your smoking hot body, Doc, give yourself some credit!" I chuckled, tapping the screen to bring up the results of the testing I'd carried out on my blood a few hours ago. They weren't complete yet, but it was getting there.

"I've been thinking this for a few months...ever since Christmas really. Talking about Calcutta made me miss it, and if I can convince S.H.I.E.L.D to let me out of the country, then I'd like to go back. I don't doubt that they'll monitor me constantly, but I've lived with that for long enough for it to not bother me..." _much_, I added in my head.

"When were you talking about Calcutta? Was I so drunk that I let you lecture me on simple living? Please tell me I didn't promise anything." I shook my head.

"Remember the girl I was sat with?" Tony's face lit up, clearly remembering how well the dress Zoey had been wearing fitted her.

"Yes...yes I do." He mock growled in appreciation and I rolled my eyes.

"She was asking me about it, and I don't know, I guess it got me thinking."

"Were you thinking about Calcutta or..." Tony wiggled his eyebrows at me and I threw a pen at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, I was just socialising, like you always wanted. I saw her a few weeks back actually...she'd been out clubbing, I guess, and wasn't in very good shape, so I helped her get home safe." I didn't need to look round to know that Tony was leering at me.

"Took her home, did you? Tuck her into bed too?" I sighed.

"She was drunk and she'd been knocked around a fair bit, I just cleaned her up and made her coffee." I knew he was preparing another lewd comment and held my hand up to stop him. "Just don't. I'm allowed to be nice to a girl without there being any ulterior motives, even if you aren't capable of it."

"Okay, now I really am offended. What was her name again?"

"Zoey."

"Zoey Zoey Monroe-y? I told her I'd do something, didn't I? What did I say?"

"You said you'd speak to Pepper about getting her a job." I rubbed my eyes under my glasses tiredly.

"I did?! And you didn't remind me? That simply won't do. What must she think of me? Jarvis, get Pepper on the line."

"Tony, she'll probably be asleep..."

"Pepper? Hi honey. I need you to do something for me."

"_Tony, I'm sleeping._"

"No you're not. Can you see if there are any jobs available in our Media department? Graduate level, but advanced."

"_Tony..._"

"And if there aren't any available, make one up. I want Zoey Monroe on our books ASAP."

"_Who?_"

"Zoey Monroe. You had me invite her to our Christmas do."

"_Whatever Tony, can it wait until the morning please?_" I heard a suppressed yawn and sighed. Tony was awful to her sometimes.

"Fine, just make sure you don't forget."

"_Sure_."

"Night Pepper. Thanks."

"_Goodnight Tony._" Her weariness was evident in her voice, as was her love. Tony smiled at me.

"There we go. Happy now, Doc? Cos, you know, if we give her a job, she'll be around a lot more. And I think you'd like that. Am I wrong?"

"Tony, I've met the girl twice."

"And in that time you've gone from having deep meaningful conversations about Calcutta with her to seeing her at her worst. You can't tell me that you haven't thought about it."

"I'm not even going to bother arguing with you, because you've already convinced yourself that you're right. I'm heading back to bed." I stood up, minimising the graphs on the screen and hooking the arm of my glasses over my shirt collar.

"Okay sweetie, don't wake the kids." Tony murmured distractedly, slapping the faceplate in annoyance. My mouth quirked up despite myself as I left the lab, pushing my hair off my face. I needed to cut it. Well, I should've done it about a month ago, but I'd got too absorbed in my work, as always.

My mind turned to Zoey, and I frowned. I couldn't get a read on her. She seemed happy, but at the same time, desperately unhappy. Tony was right about one thing though – I thought about her far too much for someone who'd only met her twice. I didn't think about her in quite the way Tony thought I did though; that is, I didn't fantasise about her. She had just been the only person in months to take me at face value, and conduct a conversation that was as much about me as a regular normal person as it was about her. I don't think anyone had ever asked me about my time in Calcutta before. I wasn't going to forget that easily.

Regardless, it was pure coincidence that I'd met her that second time, and as well organised as Pepper was, I doubted she'd remember much of her late night conversation when she woke up. And asking Tony to remember something like getting a graduate a job was like asking him to not drink for a week. It was impossible.

Still, it would be nice to talk to her again. She seemed smart. And kind. And best of all, she obviously didn't connect me with the other guy. If I met her again, I hoped to keep it that way.

**As always, let me know what you think! ~Saskia xxx**


	4. 4 - I'm Too Old

**4 – I'm Too Old**

**Not much to say here, hope you're enjoying! NB. Not sure if dissertations are a thing in the US, but I'm too lazy to research properly. And I couldn't think of a title for it. Oh well. There's some stronger language in this one, by the way. (EDITING SASKIA: Thank you so much for all the kind words and alerts etc; over 1000 hits on three chapters! This isn't as carefully edited as the other chapters because a, I'm ill and b, I meant to post this on Friday night...but then there was homework and work and then partying and drinking and bad decisions and hangovers so here, you have it now.)**

**I still don't own anything other than the plot and characters of my own creation, such as Zoey. She's having a bit of a tough day, poor girl.**

_17__th__ May 2013._

I sat outside the office of Ms. Virginia Potts, tapping my feet nervously. When Tony Stark promised to set me up with a job, I didn't expect him to actually follow through on it. Or, at least, the small part of me that did sort of shrivelled up and died after five months without a word. But sure enough, here I was – in my new suit and heels, my carefully painted fingernails scratching against a binder containing my dissertation, shaking with nervous energy. I remembered collecting the mail two weeks previously, sorting through stacks of bills and advertisements to come across the envelope with 'STARK INDUSTRIES' printed across the top left corner and damn near passing out. Even then, I didn't actually expect the letter to contain an invitation to an informal interview with Pepper Potts (the frigging BOSS of the entire COMPANY and TONY STARK'S GIRLFRIEND) to discuss signing me as part of their media team. It had taken half a tub of Ben & Jerry's for it to sink in, and the rest of the tub disappeared when I realised that I would have to buy a suit, which really aren't cheap. Luckily, when I told my parents that I had an interview with Stark Industries, they were more than willing to shell out the money required for me to look good and professional (I swear they're stacking up favours for when they're old – 'You can't put me in a care home, I paid for that suit that one time!') and so I was sat in a fashionable, flattering and forgiving black high waisted pencil skirt that finished an inch above my knees, a lavender coloured blouse and a charcoal fitted blazer. My legs were bare, and my feet encased in cute black stiletto sandals with a huge bow on the toe. Office chic was the look I was going for. I could only hope that I hadn't missed it by too far.

The door opened and I heard the soft voice of Ms Potts thanking some nameless business man for his time. I ran a hand over my hair (that was pulled back in a smooth high ponytail) and arranged my face into something resembling a confident smile. There was no way I was going to look at all sophisticated next to Pepper Potts but goddammit I could try. She shook the guy's hand and gestured for a receptionist to guide him out. She brushed an imaginary piece of lint off her creamy skirt and turned to look at me.

"Zoey Monroe?" I nodded and she smiled encouragingly, holding out a hand. I stood up and took it, slightly surprised at the firmness of her grip. I'd always taken her to be a very light handshaker, but I was clearly wrong. "Please, come in." She held the door open for me and I stepped into her office; a large, airy space with a few personal touches – modern art pieces hung on the wall, a frame photo on her desk. She closed the door after us, and went straight to a coffee machine on a bench. "I normally try not to drink coffee during the day, but I'm exhausted – would you like one?"

"Yes please." I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as she made two mugs of steaming coffee. She turned and looked at me.

"Feel free to add your own cream and sugar." I stirred in a generous amount of both and sipped the froth off the top of the spotty cup. "I believe I said in my letter that this would be an informal interview, so I hope you don't mind sitting on the sofa. That desk chair is very unforgiving, especially after four hours." I shook my head, eyebrows raised slightly as I joined her on the dark leather sofa. To my surprise, she kicked off her Christian Louboutins and pulled her feet up on to the cushion. "I am sorry, I'm just so tired. I hope this doesn't put you off at all." I swallowed my mouthful and smiled.

"Not at all. Putting your feet up at work sounds pretty nice to be honest...not that I mean that's what I like to do...I'm not lazy, I would...I just..." She laughed lightly.

"Don't worry, I know what you mean. And yes, it is nice to have a break every now and then, but unfortunately being the CEO of Stark Industries leaves limited opportunities to do so – hence right now." Pepper gestured to herself and I laughed. "So I understand you met Tony at the Winter Ball."

"Yes I did, ma'am. I was very surprised to receive an invite, let alone have a conversation with the host."

"Call me Pepper, this is completely informal, remember? Your grades were quite spectacular, and the topic of your dissertation particularly interested me." I blushed.

"I just thought it was a wide area to explore, but hardly revolutionary." She picked up a file and flipped a couple of pages.

"No, I think the idea of literature being a greater turning force in women's power than any other is an incredibly engaging topic, and I read a couple of excerpts from it – you certainly have a talent for writing, Zoey." My cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink.

"I brought a copy with me, I wasn't sure what this interview would pertain exactly, so I thought it would be a good starting point." I handed her the binder and as she took it, I saw a sparkle on her ring finger. "Excuse me for asking, but is that an engagement ring?" She looked at her hand, almost in wonder, before she collected herself.

"Obviously this is just between you and me, but yes, yes it is. Tony surprised me with it last weekend. I try to take it off for meetings and such as we want to keep it quiet for a while, but I suppose wearing it has become habitual for me now..." The redhead smiled, and she looked so absolutely radiant that I could see exactly why this was the woman who had tamed the greatest womaniser in the world (since his father).

"Congratulations." She murmured her thanks as she studied the file again.

"Enough about me now. I see here that you haven't really had any employment since you finished college?" I shook my head sadly.

"I've filled in for some of my waitress friends a couple of times, but I'm living off my savings right now. It's so frustrating – the media world is so hard to get into, and all my letters to editing agencies and the like have been returned. There have been a couple of interviews too, but no cigar."

"It's a shame, especially for someone with your grade sheet. Can I ask why you think you've never managed to get further than the interview stage?" I bit my lip.

"Um...maybe I'm just not very likeable? I genuinely don't know, I always think the interviews go really well and then I get the letter in the post saying thanks, but no thanks." Pepper hesitated before speaking slowly.

"As I'm sure you know, potential employers look into the background of all the people they're interviewing. They'll often then look deeper after the interview." I nodded uncertainly. "Well, as you might expect, background checks here are a lot more comprehensive because Tony likes to show off that he can do these things by lifting barely a finger. And I think we've found why people hesitate to employ you." I frowned, my heartbeat accelerating. "Do you know anyone by the name of..." she looked at her file. "-Mark Fairchild?" I swallowed.

"He's my ex. We split up a couple of weeks before Christmas." I said tightly.

"And this split was before the majority of these interviews?" I could only nod mutely. "Well...it seems that Mr Fairchild saw fit to upload some videos of the two of you partaking in certain acts..." Her words faded against the roaring in my ears and I think my heart stopped completely. I knew exactly what she was talking about. I had never consented to those videos being filmed. I only found out afterwards, when one of his friends started making lewd comments over dinner. I'd confronted him. I watched him delete them. And then swear on his life that they were gone, that he hadn't got any other copies of them. And stupidly, I'd trusted him. "Only your name is associated with these videos, but we thought it only fair to establish who they were uploaded by, so we did some digging. I take it you had no knowledge of this?" My hands shook as I put the mug on the table, causing the liquid to spill over the side. I reached for my bag, unable to focus on anything.

"I'm so sorry. I think it's best that I go. Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me, and for letting me know what he did, I really appreciate it. I'm sorry." Pepper stood up in alarm as I backed towards the door. "You can keep that copy of my dissertation, it's hardly light reading, but you said you were interested...thank you again, and I am genuinely so sorry."

"Zoey, wait!" I pulled the door open and stepped out quickly, telling myself to keep my composure until I was out of the building. I let it swing shut behind me as I walked briskly across the hallway, stepping into an elevator just as the doors were closing and concentrating on my breathing until we reached the ground floor. I dropped my visitors pass on a desk as I left, and finally allowed the sob that had been building in my throat escape.

I never knew embarrassment until Pepper looked at me in that sympathetic way as she told me that what was, for me, making love, was simply a porno making opportunity to Mark, and now he was reaping the profits. I fumbled with the catch on my bag and grabbed my phone, typing out his number and dialling it – it's easy to delete a contact from your phonebook but not so easy to delete it from your mind. I held it to my ear as I wiped at my eyes, tilting my head up to prevent any more tears from falling.

"_Hello?_" His voice sounded bleary, as if he'd only just woken up.

"You bastard." My voice was little more than a growl.

"_Who is this?_"

"It's me, _honey_. You should recognise my voice, even if it is my body you're making the money out of."

"_Zoey? What are you talking about?_" I laughed, verging on hysteria.

"What am I talking about!? I'm talking about those videos that you took without my permission and promised you'd deleted and then saw fit to upload to the internet associated with my name! Did you know that I haven't been able to get a job since I graduated because of them? Because after you click through a couple of pages of Google when you search my name, _they appear_, and no one wants to employ someone with fucking _pornos_ available for a couple of dollars on the web. Oh yeah, and you filmed them in fucking HD too, so there's no worries about mistaken identity there!" Mark was silent. "Say something!"

"_They're mine to distribute._"

"No. No they're absolutely fucking not. Not unless your fucking name is on the label too. And not when you didn't ask my fucking permission in the first place! I've had so many interviews since we split up and I haven't got offered a single fucking job. Do you know how I found out what you've done? Pepper Potts told me." I heard an intake of breath on the other end of the line. "That's right, I had an interview with the fucking CEO of Stark sodding Industries, and she was the one to break the news to me that my ex boyfriend was so petty that he decided to upload videos of us having sex to make a fast buck. Do you have any idea how humiliated I was?"

"_How did she know I was the one to upload them?_" I shook my head in disbelief.

"She's Tony Stark's fi-girlfriend, she has her ways. I can't belie- I know I dumped your sorry ass but I thought I meant just a little bit more to you than that. I thought that _we_ meant a little bit more to you. You just...completely objectified something that meant so much to me for profit! And in doing so, completely ruined all my career prospects, and crushed my dreams and...you complete cu- shithead!" The tears were running freely down my face now and I made no attempt to hide them, ignoring the concerned looks I was getting from strangers as I stalked towards the subway.

"_Let's be reasonable about this..._"

"Reasonable? Okay, how's this for reasonable – I want those videos taken down within the next two hours, and if they aren't, I'm going to the police. Understand?" I hung up and fought the urge to throw my phone on the pavement. I never thought I was a violent person, but I knew that if I could see him right now...I smiled briefly as the mental image of Mark clutching his goolies after my cute-shoe encased foot kicked them hard enough that he wouldn't be able to procreate floated across my mind. I didn't know what hurt the most – that the fact that _while we were dating_ he straight up lied to me about having a copy of those videos or the fact that he was so vindictive as to destroy my career before it even had a chance to begin, and so carelessly too. I know I'm not the only person this has ever happened to, but right now, I didn't care. All I cared about was working out how I was going to fix this.

I could make him take it down. I had no qualms about taking him to court over it – I was certain this was an infringement of my privacy and sabotage of my future, and that's got to equate to something in court. It wouldn't do anything about the people who already bought the videos, but I could only hope they didn't begin to circulate with my name attached to them agai-...oh god I had walked out on Pepper Potts! I was so rude to her! And she had been so lovely and understanding and let me know about this whole debacle even though she didn't need to and oh my god I'm a terrible human being I have to apologise oh god oh god oh god...

I turned around and started walking back towards Stark Tower, dabbing at the mascara trails that I knew must be staining my cheeks. I had to apologise to her...no, I couldn't just walk in there like I owned the place! I changed direction, heading towards a little row of shops that I was certain contained some nice stationary – I'd write to her, it was much safer. But all her mail is probably vetted...oh _shit_ how many people at the company know about the videos? Oh _SHIT_ has Tony Stark watched them? Tony fucking Stark has probably seen me having sex and going down on a guy, oh _great_. I started walking aimlessly, not paying any attention to where I was going because in that moment, I simply didn't care. Oh god I was going to have to tell my parents, no they didn't need to know, yes they did, they bought me this suit and they had to know why I didn't get the job oh god everything was going so horribly wrong.

"Zoey!" I was so not capable of human interaction that I completely ignored the voice calling my name. "Zoey, hold on- sorry, excuse me, sorry- Zoey!" I sighed, finally turning round to see who was calling me and was surprised to see Doctor Bruce Banner waving at me, his floppy hair all messy from running. I hadn't seen him since he patched me up on Valentine's Day, and he was pretty much the last person I wanted to see right now.

"Hi Bruce, sorry, I've got places I need to be, I really should go..." I gestured feebly in a noncommittal direction as he caught up with me, matching my pace with ease.

"Pepper sent me, she was worried about you." I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose in an attempt to calm myself down.

"There was really no need, I'm fine. If you could pass on my apologies for running out like that, it would be much appreciated...it was nice seeing you again Bruce..." He grabbed my elbow lightly.

"Hang on a second. She said to tell you that she'd set Jarvis – that's the AI Tony installed – to work on getting rid of some videos for you? Something on the internet, she didn't say any specifics, but she promised that Jarvis would do the best job possible on making sure they were deleted and your name disassociated with them." He frowned as he ticked things off on his fingers. "She said that it's not something the company will hold against you in regards to employment, as it was clearly involuntary on your behalf. She also said that she'd like to offer you a month's probation work in the media department, with a full job offer following a review." My jaw dropped. "She said to give her a call to sort something."

"Are you serious?" I whispered and he nodded.

"You ran past me on your way out of the building. I asked Pepper what happened and she told me to go after you and tell you. Are you okay?" I shook my head dumbly. "What's wrong?" I could only shake my head. "Do you need anything? Are you feeling okay?"

"After all that, and she'll still offer me a job, and get rid of part of the problem, even though it's _my_ ex..." Another sob escaped my throat, but this time it was more due to shock than upset or embarrassment. Bruce looked seriously uncomfortable. I covered my mouth with my hand and stared at him. "Thank you so much for telling me." He smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's no problem...besides, I'm sure Pepper would have found some way to let you know. I'm guessing that the problem was something to do with those videos, right?" I nodded, a blush rising in my cheeks. "Not something you wanna talk about I'm guessing?" I shook my head. "Well, uh...I'd better be leaving you to get on with your day then." I nodded again, unable to comprehend my good luck and he began to walk away. I stood there mutely for a few more seconds, before coming to my senses.

"Wait!" I ran after him, seeing him turn around with a quizzical look on his face. As I approached, I vaguely heard a cracking in my heel and suddenly I was falling. It was the sort of thing you'd expect to happen in slow motion, except it didn't, and I barely had time to resign myself to faceplanting the floor before a pair of strong arms collided with my waist and held me upright. I locked eyes with my saviour and saw brown eyes twinkling at me.

"That was close." Bruce smiled and I laughed.

"Yeah...thanks." His arms stayed round my waist for a few seconds longer than needed and I smirked. "You know, I've seen a fair few movies, and that's more than enough to tell me that this is the part where you kiss me." I suggested, only half joking.

"I think I'm too old for the role; I'm a little age-worn for someone as young and beautiful as yourself." He drew his arms back, slowly to make sure I didn't lose my balance again. I felt my skin burn through my clothes as he let go of me.

"You're not that old, cut yourself a little slack." I covered up the slightly awkward silence with a laugh and was rewarded with a wry smile.

"Still, it wouldn't be appropriate. What exactly just happened?" I looked down at my expensive shoes and nearly cried.

"My heel broke." I said mournfully, bending down to undo the buckles and pull them off. "They were new and all."

"Are you going to be okay getting home barefoot?"

"I was before, remember? Valentine's Day?" He grinned and nodded. "Besides, I was smart today, I've got flats in my bag. Hold these a sec." I handed him the shoes and he looked at them as if they were going to attack him. I searched through my handbag until I came across those strange little shoes that you can fold in half and pulled them on my feet. "Thanks." I took back the sandals with a smile. And I tried hard to ignore the fact that our fingers touched as I did so, I really did.

"What is it that you wanted? You know, before damn near falling at my feet and all?" I had to stop and think for a second because his sparkling chocolate coloured eyes had distracted me.

"Oh yeah! You told me to call Pepper, but I don't think I have a number for her...the phone number on my interview letter was just for the HR department..." Bruce fumbled in his pants pocket for a second before handing me a scrap of paper with a few hastily scrawled digits on it. I saw the signature – '~P x' – and deduced that it had been ripped off the bottom of a letter or similar.

"She gave me this for you. I'm sorry, I forgot." I took it from him, being EXTRA CAREFUL to not brush my fingers against his again (I failed).

"It's okay, and thanks Bruce. I'm in an infinitely better mood than I was since talking to you." He smiled bashfully and it was downright adorable. Men like him should not be allowed to be adorable, it simply isn't fair. "So hopefully I'll see you around then, if I'm getting a job here?"

"Hopefully." Bruce echoed, and I smiled at the sentiment. "Bye now." I waggled my fingers at him as he went back to the Tower, leaving me fighting the urge to happy dance at the thought of having a job at Stark Industries (and being able to see the adorably awkward doctor more often). He really was growing on me, I mused as I felt my phone vibrate. I answered it without looking at the display.

"_The videos are gone, but I didn't take them down, and they're gone off my computer as well. The fuck are you hacking me for?_" Mark's voice was angry and I smiled serenely.

"Friends in high places, babe. You know what will happen if they find their way online again through you. Buh bye now." I blew a kiss mockingly down the phone and hung up. Today wasn't turning out too shabby after all.

**Let me know what you think! I know this story is very OC-driven, but I never said that it wouldn't be, and things are going to begin to get a little fluffier from here on out. There will be a chapter of more action much later on, and I hope that you'll stick around – I'm really enjoying writing this! ~Saskia xxx**


	5. 5 - People Will See

**5 – People Will See**

**Here's where the chemistry starts to build...And from here on out, we will building on the assumption that nothing earth shattering has happened IRL by the date at the start of each chapter, because I'm writing in the future now _(start of June for writing Saskia)_. I didn't intend for this to be the longest chapter so far; in fact, I struggled with it to start off with, but never mind. Oh, and I do not have a clue about 'Murica, so take the geography and settings etc in this chapter with a pinch of salt.  
**

**(EDITING SASKIA: I'm so sorry for the long wait! I will upload the next chapter before 6th November - my birthday - as an apology...and as I'm now on my half term holiday, I will try my hardest to get a new chapter of Criminal, my Loki/OC story, finished and uploaded by then too! Sorry sorry sorry, and thank you for all the reviews, alerts and favourites! 3)**

**I only own the plot, characters incidental to it and Zoey. It's her birthday; leave your birthday messages in the review box, ta.**

_1__st__ July 2013._

I sat at my desk, running through an article on Tony Stark for some generic manly magazine. Turns out, Tony was important enough to have all articles and interviews with him sent to S.I for proofreading and to check that nothing untoward had been slipped in, and I mean _all_ of them, at pain of hefty court bills. It was one of the more boring tasks that came with being on the media department's payroll, but I also got to sit in on some press conferences (which were always hilarious, Mr Stark was so sassy), write articles to send to newspapers about current events on behalf of Stark Industries and (most excitingly), I was part of a team of writers working on piecing together a book about the history of Stark Industries, due to be published next year. That was my favourite part of the job – I got to dig around in musty files from the World War Two and knit together various military documentation into a story that sounded exciting and romantic and dramatic and aww I just really loved it.

Today had been a good day. Just this morning, I had signed my contract for a permanent position at Stark Industries (my job title was 'Media Advisor and Liason', which sounded very cool, I thought) and I already had a paycheque in my bank account from my probation period that was bigger than any paycheque I'd received before. And I was getting a raise. Life was good.

Of course, it also helped that with the assistance of Pepper, I'd managed to wrangle a few thousand dollars out of Mark for 'damages'. In all fairness, when he realised that I had Pepper Potts on my side, he had paid up pretty quickly, and thanks to that and my new job, I had managed to pay the first three months' rent on a small but chic apartment closer to the centre of Manhattan and move out of the moth eaten apartment I shared with Tori. I loved the girl dearly, but she hadn't changed as much as I thought – I'd walked in to the flat to smell the lingering stench of marijuana one time too many and left her to fend for herself. She wouldn't accept my help, so she could damn well help herself. Also, I sorta hoped that my not paying half of the rent would force her to give up the pot to pay it, so I was helping from afar, really. I didn't want to think about the needles at the bottom of her drawer that I'd found one time when I was looking for her phone charger.

And I'd woken this morning to a number of text messages and a modest pile of cards in my mailbox which signalled the fact that it was my birthday. Today, I was officially in my mid twenties – 24 years young...man, I felt old. My parents had already bought me my birthday present – they paid for a couch and armchair suite when I moved into my new apartment, but I had a small amount of money from various aunts, uncles and grandparents that would go towards buying a new bed and closet, considering I was currently living out of a suitcase and sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Glamorous. I loved cooking, and the majority of the cooking utensils at the shared apartment belonged to me, so I didn't feel too bad in taking them with me, leaving enough for Tori to get by – one less thing for me to buy. My grandparents were taking me out for dinner tonight, and I had arrived at work to find a tasteful card propped against my computer monitor from Pepper, who had pretty much taken me under her wing ever since that first interview.

Another bonus of working at Stark Industries was Bruce. Oh, Bruce. He really was lovely. He wasn't often around the three floors dedicated to media, and we worked different hours, so we didn't see each other much, but whenever he was passing by, he'd always make sure to stop by my desk to ask me how things were going or offer an opinion on the article I was checking through. He wasn't as shy as he was when I first met him, but he still reacted wonderfully when I teased him about how much I fancied him. He didn't think I was telling the truth. And I was. I really was. He was just the loveliest guy I'd ever met, you can't blame me! Those lovely brown eyes and his tan skin and his easy smile and subtly muscled body...

I shook my head and looked back down at the article. Daydreaming is not what I'm being paid to do. I looked at the clock in the corner of my monitor. I would work for another half an hour and then take my lunch break. There was a bakery near Central Park that made the best pastries, and I decided to treat myself to a cake as well. Resolved, I worked through the rest of the article with renewed vigour, finishing within twenty minutes. I stretched, slipping my shoes back on under the table and checking my wallet was in my purse. I signed out by pressing my thumb on a scanner and summoned the elevator. As the doors slid smoothly open, I saw a familiar floppy haired doctor inside.

"Bruce!" I exclaimed happily. He raised a hand at me.

"Zoey, how are you?" I stepped into the elevator and the doors shut behind me.

"I'm good – fantastic in fact. Today has been a very good day." Bruce looked at me quizzically. "Well I signed my permanent contract, I'm living on my own in a really nice apartment for the first time ever..." I ticked off on my fingers. "...I've got money in the bank...oh, and it's my birthday." His eyebrows raised.

"Well in that case, many happy returns." I smiled my thanks as we left the elevator and walked across the atrium, falling into step easily. He rubbed the back of his neck, something I'd noticed was a habit of his when he was uncomfortable. "Uh...I'm guessing you're on your lunch break?" I nodded, telling my heart to stop racing, _you're being ridiculous heart, stop_. "Well, uh, I'm going out too...wanna maybe uh, go together? Just like, get food and uh, eat...it?" His tanned cheeks were blushing and I giggled.

"Why Doctor Banner, are you asking me on a date?" I teased and his cheeks went even redder. "I'm joking, you know I am. That sounds lovely. Where were you thinking?" He held the door open for me as we stepped out on to the street and I searched my bag for my Ray Bans because screwing up my face against the sun wasn't an option while Bruce was there. He was just too attractive for me to pull such ugly faces around him.

"There's a really great bakery near Central Park?" My jaw dropped slightly.

"That's where I was going to go anyway! Bruce, we appear to have a psychic connection." I announced solemnly and he laughed, leading the way through the crowd. In a fit of confidence, I slipped my arm through his; he flinched, but didn't pull away, smiling shyly down at me. Progress! We made small talk as we weaved through the crowds of people, with generic topics such as the weather, the economy and work being covered quickly.

"I haven't seen Tony Stark around the Tower at all." I commented lightly as we crossed the road, Bruce shielding his eyes against the sun's glare.

"No, he's at home in Malibu at the minute. Pepper's been splitting her time between there and here; he's told me that I have to watch the fort unofficially while they're both away." I nudged him conspiratorially.

"Moving up in the world, aren't you? You know, we could totally hack into their system, rob their bank accounts and run."

"And where would you propose running to that Tony wouldn't find us?" I thought for a second.

"Calcutta!" Bruce shook his head, smiling.

"Too obvious, he knows I'd like to go back there." I tapped my chin with a finger.

"Ireland is quiet."

"There's far too much alcohol in Ireland, Tony would end up there sooner or later."

"Russia?"

"Bit cold."

"Malaysia?"

"Bit warm."

"England?"

"Bit rainy." I threw my arms in the air.

"I give up then! We'll just have to build an underground bunker and live like hobbits." Bruce laughed, louder and more carefree than normal and it made me smile – I loved making him laugh. I threaded my right arm back through his left and this time there was no flinch, no shying away...he just accepted it and continued as if nothing had changed. I felt myself slipping into a realm of daydreams wherein Bruce removed his arm from mine only to wrap it round my shoulders, pulling me close and pressing his lips to my temple, kissing a gentle line from there to my ear, my jawbone, my chin and finally my lips...

I couldn't deny that I had it bad for the older man. I'd had a sneaky look on the employee database and found that he was 40 years old, turning 41 in October. The age gap wasn't _too_ bad...I mean, less than 17 years, there's been worse, right? There was a lot of stuff on his file that was restricted, and I wasn't talented enough with computers to be able to get round the firewalls in place. Besides, I hoped that I could get him to trust me enough to tell me about those restricted areas of his character...because I really wanted him to trust me as I trusted him. I'd definitely got the impression that he was a very reserved person, and took a long time to warm up to people, but I'd bet my new apartment that he'd warmed up to me now, over half a year after we'd first met. If all went to plan...things would get a lot warmer between us...

"Earth to Zoey?" I shook myself and realised that we'd arrived at the bakery whilst I was in the midst of daydreaming about kissing Bruce. "You were miles away." I laughed, praying that my makeup would cover up the blush that was sure to betray me.

"I...yeah, I was, sorry." Smiling sheepishly, I pushed open the door and was immediately hit by the heavenly aroma of baked goods and coffee. I inhaled deeply, sighing in pleasure. Bruce gave me a sidelong glance as he joined me by the counter, looking over what was on offer.

"What are you getting?" He was standing slightly behind me, meaning my bare arm brushed lightly against his chest and I involuntarily shivered.

"Uh...same as usual, I guess. Spicy vegetable pasty...and I might get one of those chocolate and cinnamon cakes, considering it is my birthday and all, I'm allowed to pig out a bit." I grinned at Bruce as he put his glasses on to read the labels stuck to the glass.

"Can I help you?" The elderly woman by the cash desk smiled welcomingly at us.

"Uh, yes, can I get two spicy vegetable pasties, a cinnamon and chocolate cake, a carrot cake and four coffees please; two to have now and two suspended? Bagged separately, if you could?" The woman nodded as she bustled about with paper bags and tongs, depositing each into a white carrier bag on top of the counter. Bruce pulled a battered leather wallet out of his back pocket at the same time as I found my red fabric purse out of my handbag. "I'll get them."

"It's okay." I started counting out dollar bills.

"No, really, I insist. Birthday treat." I hesitated, but one charming smile from Bruce had me slipping the money back into my wallet meekly. He took the bag, paid and accepted the change, leaving a tip of a couple of dollars for the woman. I grabbed the two coffees and followed him out of the door. We walked across into Central Park, and I gestured to a large tree that cast a shadow over some not skanky looking grass. We sat down against the tree and I stretched my legs out in front of me, crossing them over at the ankles. Bruce produced some napkins from his pocket and handed one to me, followed by my pasty and cake. I took a sip from my coffee and gave the other to him. I bit into the pasty and had to suppress a moan of happiness. It was exquisite. I saw Bruce making a start on his and smiling. I swallowed, wiping the corners of my mouth free of stray crumbs.

"Thank you." I raised the pasty slightly and he shook his head.

"Don't mention it. Least I could do, considering it's your birthday and all. Have you made any plans?" I broke off a piece of the pastry and popped it in my mouth, chewing quickly.

"My grandparents are taking me out for dinner tonight." He smiled wryly.

"Going to be a crazy night like Valentine's Day then?" I blushed, taking a large bite of my pasties to attempt to cover it. "I'm joking. What about your parents?

"My parents paid for some of my new furniture as a present, so they think they've done their parental duty and don't even need to bother with a card." Bruce frowned slightly.

"That doesn't sound right."

"They've always been like that. It's not like I've had a rough life or anything, they're just very into letting me fend for myself now." I shrugged, taking another mouthful of the wonderful pasty. "What about you, Bruce? Do you have overbearing parents or do they encourage independence more?"

"I uh, I'm not really in contact with my parents anymore. Truth be told, I haven't spoken to them in a good few years. They didn't uh, approve of some of my choices." I raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging him to go into detail about those 'choices', but he shook his head. "It's not something I like to talk about." Nodding understandingly, my mind drifted to those classified areas of his file. "The pasties are good."

"I know! I'd say that that place is the discovery I'm most proud of, along with the thrift store a couple of blocks away with no employees capable of recognising designer shoes so they sell them for like ten bucks." Bruce laughed, covering his mouth with one hand and I melted a little inside. He really was making it far too easy for me to fall for him. It was bad. But also really really good.

"So how are you finding working at Stark Industries? I mean, when I've seen you around you look happy enough..."

"I genuinely love it. I just feel really important and needed, you know? I've not really had that before...I've not had like, a proper, career-starting job until now, so it's different. There's always something to do, and I'm pretty busy, but I've got a decent paycheque going into the bank every month and I'm doing something I enjoy, so I can't really complain at all." I finished the pasty and wiped my fingers on the napkin. I noticed with a smirk that Bruce looked away pointedly when I brushed the crumbs off my shirt. "So what do you do up in the mysterious R&D department?" I drained my coffee, crumpling the empty cup and throwing it in the white plastic bag along with the brown bag that had contained my pasty.

"Oh, this and that." He replied vaguely, putting the last of his pasty in his mouth. I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Mostly it's stuff to do with clean energy and how to keep it sustainable." Nodding, I tried to look like I knew anything about it. "But sometimes I help Tony with little bits on his suits – gearing it to administer some medical help in a crisis like defibrillating and shots." I leaned forward, my interest piqued.

"Would that be fitted in all the suits, or would there be like a designated medic suit? Like, Mr Stark's own personal intensive care unit?" Bruce chuckled at my enthusiasm.

"Not quite that advanced – asides from anything, space is an issue, we can't exactly install a full blown operating theatre within the suit's chest cavity and still leave room for someone inside there. But hopefully we can get enough stuff in there to get someone out of a tight spot."

"Yeah...I mean, I saw the videos of Mr Stark going up through that black hole thing last year and then falling back down. The way the Hulk grabbed him was amazing." Bruce smiled to himself. "What's so funny?" He looked at me suddenly, almost guiltily.

"No, I just...Tony told me about that, and said that the Hulk roared at him to wake him up once they'd landed. Very few beings can yell at Tony Stark and survive." His grin was sheepish.

"Well, that guy is the Hulk. I'm not sure who I'd put my money on in a fight." Unwrapping my chocolate and cinnamon muffin, I considered the outcome of Hulk vs. Iron Man. "I mean, Iron Man is Tony Stark, and he's as stubborn as they come, so that would definitely put it in his favour, but the Hulk brings a whole new definition to the term 'thick skinned', I've seen the footage." Bruce broke off a piece of his carrot cake.

"I think it would be a close fight, but hopefully not one that'll happen. I mean, a few years ago, the Hulk kinda broke Harlem, and considering Tony doesn't really care about breaking things because he's usually got the money to replace them with something bigger and better...it would get very messy very quickly." I wiped some of the cinnamon icing off the top of the cake and sucked on my finger thoughtfully. As Bruce blushed I realised what it must look like and decided to eat the cake 'normally' – I really liked the guy, and I loved making him uncomfortable, but I wasn't _that_ mean.

"Good point. I mean, we're only just recovering from those aliens last summer...though it would make the Avengers' fangirls very happy. They like that sort of thing." Bruce laughed.

"Yeah, I've heard some things. Crazy."

"Well, they did kinda save the world, of course they were going to collect a bit of a fanbase." I shrugged as I bit into the cake. It was damn good.

"Hopefully they won't have to again." We lapsed into silence for a few minutes, each of us savouring our own deserts. I couldn't help but think how comfortable the silence was...which of course led me to comparing this silence to the awkward ones I'd shared with Mark and other exes – before, I'd always been in the position with guys that silences had to be filled, and couldn't just be enjoyed. Wow. Comparing him to my exes already. I needed to stop. "So uh, has that thing with the videos been sorted out? That Pepper mentioned before." I nodded, not wanting to talk with a mouthful of cake. "When I last saw you, you were really upset about that, and something about your ex...I'm guessing that's fixed too?"

"As much as it can be. He's done all he can and all I can make him do, so we're good now." He raised an eyebrow. "Well, not good, but he has no reason to bother me ever again, so I'd say it's a favourable outcome." I plucked at my shirt to loosen any crumbs that had fallen on it and brushed some off my skirt.

"So you're footloose and fancy free then?" Bruce collected up the rubbish from our lunch and pushed it into the plastic bag.

"I wouldn't quite say fancy free." My reply came before my brain could kick in, as did the sly look I gave Bruce from under my eyelashes. He looked taken aback, but...I thought I saw some response in his eyes. I quickly convinced myself that I was imagining it, but that conviction faded as he angled his body slightly more towards me.

"Uh, how long is your lunch break?" His voice was slightly hesitant and I looked at my watch.

"I've got an hour and a half; Pepper said I could take a longer break because it's my birthday. I've got about 30 minutes left." I felt the corner of my mouth tug up as he rubbed the back of his neck in that awkward and adorable habit of his.

"That's very kind of her."

"She's good to me...I don't think I'd have made it this far in this job without her support, she's practically taken me under her wing. Tony Stark is a very lucky man to have someone like her."

"That he is. He knows it too, he just has a funny way of showing it." We sat quietly, closer than before, our bodies more angled towards each other, and my heart was thumping out of control in anticipation of what I was cautiously allowing myself to think would happen. Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair tiredly. "Zoey..."

"Yes Bruce?"

"I can tell what you're thinking."

"And the elephant in the room lets out a mighty roar!"

"Don't."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Why?"

"Don't you dare."

"Why?"

"That's really immature, you know that right?"

"Why?"

"Zoey!"

"What?" I smiled innocently as Bruce chuckled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Oh come on, Bruce. Don't be like that. You're not telling me that the ONLY reason you bought me lunch was because of my birthday, are you?" He shot me a look. "Don't be ridiculous. Come on, we're grown ups, we can talk about this sort of thing."

"What exactly is it that you want to talk about?" Bruce's voice was coloured with defeat and inwardly I rejoiced.

"Us." He looked away, pulling at a loose bit of skin on his palm. "You asked! And you can't deny that there's...something. I've never seen you this at ease with anyone else apart from maybe Tony Stark, and I'm fairly certain that it's for a different reason with him. Well, I hope it is. Pepper might have something to say if it wasn't." I reached over and laid my hand over his, which stilled under my touch.

"Stop it." Bruce's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I'm serious, Bruce. Look me in the eye and tell me you haven't thought about it. I know I have." His brown eyes met my hazel ones, but he couldn't hold my gaze and looked away. "My point exactly." He exhaled noisily as he turned his hands over, squeezing my fingers slightly.

"Yes, I have thought about it. But we can't." I leaned in regardless, my intent clear, but I was stopped by his hand on my cheek. "No, Zoey. People will see. You're young, and I'm not, and people will see." His thumb brushed over my cheekbone gently, and he rested his forehead against mine for a too short second before standing up and offering me a hand. "Come on, we should be heading back. Don't want to be late." I narrowed my eyes at him, but accepted the help, revelling the feeling of his hand wrapped around mine. "Zoey...it's nothing personal, I promise. You're a wonderful woman, you really are. As clichéd as it may sound...it's not you, it's me." I pouted at him sulkily, still trying to regain control of my breathing after our almost-kiss. "Don't pout." I elbowed him and walked away. He followed me, laughing, and held my handbag out. I reluctantly turned to take it and he grabbed my hand as I reached for my bag. "Still friends?" I considered saying no. I really did. I felt like a fool anyway, and I'd probably made things awkward forever...but when I made contact with those sparkling brown eyes I knew that I couldn't stay away from him if I tried.

"Still friends." I agreed, sliding the strap of my handbag over my shoulder but not letting go of Bruce's hand. He looked at it pointedly and I made my eyes as wide and innocent as possible. "Friends can hold hands too!" He shook his head but entwined his fingers in mine.

"You're impossible." He murmured as we walked back towards the Tower.

"I try my best." I replied airily, bumping my hip against his. When we were close to our mutual workplace, I stopped. "Thanks for the best lunch ever." My voice was shy as I looked towards my toes. Bruce tapped my chin, coercing me into looking up.

"Don't mention it. We should do it more often." My eyebrows raised. "It's what friends do, right? Go out for lunch? How does every Monday sound?" I bit my lip.

"Sounds good to me." He nodded. I impulsively went in for a hug, wrapping my arms around his neck, and though he froze momentarily, his arms went round my waist a few seconds later and he pressed his face into my hair. "Considering what happened earlier, you're kinda giving me mixed signals here, Doctor." He pulled away sheepishly and grinned.

"Happy birthday, Zoey." One hand reached for my face, as if he was going to caress it (_or pull me into a kiss_, said the mischievous voice in my head that didn't like taking no for an answer), but abruptly he stopped, walking on quickly towards the Tower. I ran my hand over my hair, checking that it wasn't as frazzled as I felt before following him in. Well, I knew that my feelings were reciprocated. Hopefully I could convince him to act on them in the future. There was no rush, though – with our weekly lunch dates, it had to be only a matter of time! I ignored the voice in my head (that sounded suspiciously like my mother) that was reprimanding me for being so invested in a man nearly 17 years older than me as I signed in, before sitting at my desk, kicking off my shoes and opening my company email account. I had a message containing my instructions for the afternoon, as well as one from a certain 'B Banner'. I clicked on that one first with a smile.

_Slipped my mind earlier, but in case you should ever need to cancel our lunchtime arrangements...here's my number (stop what you are thinking right now, Zoey). Bruce._

His number was written at the bottom. I quickly typed it into my phone and texted him a reply.

_You read my mind, Bruce. Or not. Zoey x_

**I got the warm fuzzies writing this, and I hope you did too. I know it's fluffy. I know. But Mark Ruffalo is fluffy and so his character deserves fluff written about him. Let me know what you think! ~Saskia xxx**


	6. 6 - It's Hard To Stay In Control

**6 – It's Hard To Stay In Control**

**We've now officially passed the halfway stage, and with that landmark, I'm reeling in the fluff a little in place of some drama. I hope I'm not boring you too much. This chapter was quite difficult to split up and so there are some quite large blocks of text, particularly in the first half. Sorry.**

**I obviously don't own the Marvel-movieverse. All credit where it's due. I do own Zoey though, and she doesn't know what to believe anymore. Poor girl.**

_**(EDITING NOTE: Sorry for the delay in this chapter, blame work and college and birthday and socialising. Also blame Thor: The Dark World. I've seen it twice already. Dear lord).**_

_23rd September 2013._

"So have a look round, let Jarvis know if you want anything else in here – this is your place to do with as you please, but try to keep the wild parties to a minimum, hm?" I nodded mutely as Tony Stark led the way into my new office, trying to stop my jaw dropping in astonishment. "I'm sure this comes as a bit of a shock to you, but really, we couldn't think of anyone better for the job."

"A bit of a shock is an understatement, I think." My voice was faint as I looked around. It was only half an hour ago that I'd sat down at my desk to find it empty of everything but my computer – even my stash of biscuits and tea bags in the drawer had disappeared. I'd clicked onto my email with shaking hands, finding a message from Tony Stark himself with the subject like 'I like you'.

_Hi Zoey Zoey Monroe-y,_

_Pepper tells me you've settled in really well and that the work you're churning out is exemplary. Good job. Obviously I only hire the best, so most of the credit goes to me, but you can give yourself a pat on the back regardless. _

_Obviously, since you've become so comfortable at S.I., the logical thing to do is to uproot you from your nice cushy job as a 'Media Advisor and Liason' and push your limits, throw you out of your comfort zone etc etc. Some may argue that this is unorthodox and that this is a job that should go to someone with more experience but I do things my own way so they can shove it. You might get a few dirty looks from people who've been working at the same level as you for longer, but I'm sure you can deal with that. I'm sidetracking. Okay._

_So the thing is I like you. You seem like a good kid. Smart too. You can handle yourself, and you're friendly enough. So I'd like to formally offer you the role of the Avengers' Media Liason. That means you'll have to organise press conferences, vet what gets published, write glowing reports on our good deeds to send to the press, give statements, kick us under the table if we start saying too much...you get the idea. Don't worry, we're all perfectly friendly, and I'll bring you up to speed on all of our ins and outs. Pepper will help you if you have any questions, but I'm assuming you'll take the job, which is why I've already taken the liberty of moving your stuff into your new office. These biscuits are good. _

_By the time you've finished reading this, I should be just about to appear above your desk to whisk you away to distant lands, so look sharp. (By distant lands I mean your office, which is a few floors up). Yes, it's a sudden move, but here at Stark Industries you gotta be adaptable. Hence my suit._

_Tony Stark (aka the best boss in the world)._

_PS. Did I mention the few thousand dollar yearly pay rise?_

And sure enough, the moment I looked up from my computer screen Tony Stark was walking towards me, wearing sunglasses even though we were indoors and a suit jacket over an ACDC shirt. There were murmurs around me from twenty or so other people who worked in the department and out of the corner of my eye I had spotted one of the interns flailing slightly at her first sighting of Tony Stark in the flesh. Apparently it was nearly unheard of for him to be on this floor, let alone walking among us. The whispers rose in pitch as he stopped behind my computer screen, grinning widely.

"Hi Zoey Zoey Monroe-y."

"Hello." My voice could only be classified as a squeak.

"Since when were you a mouse? I had you pegged as a guinea pig at least. I take it you accept?" I made some vague noise of affirmation and he clapped his hands together. "Fantastic, let's go." He waved to the other people in the room as he strutted back towards the elevator, leaving me fumbling to log off the computer and grab my bag. I was still putting my flats on my feet properly as I followed him, trying to blank out the stares and accusations of favouritism.

"So what do you think?" Tony's voice was excitable as he leant against the..._my_...desk and grabbed the packet of biscuits laying on top of it. The room was as big as probably half my entire apartment and furnished in a much classier way – monochrome was the word that sprang to mind. I hesitated, trying to work out how best to phrase my next words.

"I think that I haven't done anything of merit to deserve this job. I mean...surely there are people who are more suited? Not that I don't appreciate it, because I really do, Mr Stark, but...I'm not sure that I'm the right girl." He scoffed.

"One, it's Tony, not Mr Stark, I'm not your teacher. Two, your lack of experience makes you perfect for the job. We don't want someone who's set in their ways and can't get their head around change – we need someone who relies on their instincts, which I think is exactly what will make you perfect for it. Plus, Bruce likes you, and I trust his opinion." I blushed involuntarily at mention of Bruce, which of course did not escape his notice. "And there's that, too. Having you up here on the higher levels means you'll see more of each other, which I am actively encouraging because Bruce really needs to get laid." My mouth fell open with an audible 'pop' and Tony laughed. "Don't look at me like that, you think it too, and you wouldn't mind being the one to lay him. He certainly wouldn't mind it being you – I know all about your little lunch dates." I scuffed the toe of my shoe against the waxed floor awkwardly. "And I approve, by the way." I shot him a look that very clearly said _please shut up oh my god_ and he held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, fine. Tell you what. I'll leave you to get settled in – all your things are in those boxes-" he pointed, "-apart from these biscuits which I'm confiscating on the grounds of 'they're nice and I want them'. In the top drawer of your desk are the full files on the Avengers – that is, myself, Captain Spandex, Black Widow, Pigeon Boy, God of Poptarts and the mean green fighting machine – and they are not to leave this room. That's very important. I'd have to serve your head on a platter to the highest bidder if anyone got hold of those."

"Noted."

"So familiarise yourself with each of us, go out on your lunch date, and then I'll come and find you this afternoon to give you all the salacious gossip on everyone. You're gonna be great, Zoey Zoey Monroe-y." I frowned at him.

"Why do you still call me that?" He clapped me on the shoulder as he walked past.

"Everyone needs a petname, Pickle." Tony slid out of the door, leaving me questioning the name 'Pickle' even more than 'Zoey Zoey Monroe-y'.

I walked around the room slowly, taking in my surroundings. There was a counter against one wall that had a kettle, coffee machine and microwave on, and under it were a couple of cupboards and a fridge. Next to that was a large filing cabinet with a Post It note stuck to the top corner – closer inspection revealed that this cabinet was already filled with Avengers-related files and clippings, but could be reorganised to my heart's content. The desk was the centrepiece of the room, but I eyed a very comfortable looking sofa that was against the opposite corner to the fridge, alongside a wall of ceiling to floor bookcases. Overall, it was very nice. I crossed the room and slid into the large spinny chair that made me feel very important and tested its spinning capability. My delighted laugh echoed off the walls as I whizzed around and I had to grab hold of the edge of my desk to steady myself. I walked (in a mostly straight line) over to the two cardboard boxes and lifted them onto the desk (being careful not to knock the computer off – I wasn't going to start breaking things on my first morning of the job). I spent the next half an hour arranging my meagre amount of possessions across the room, making a note on my phone of stuff that I needed to get – some more pictures for my desk, artwork or posters for the walls, and a few books to go on the shelves. Plus supplies for the fridge, obviously the most important part.

Finally, the of-_my_ office was beginning to look at least a little lived in, and I reached into the drawer (that had a fancy looking lock on it that only opened with my fingerprint), pulling out six brown files with some sort of bird insignia stamped on them; red writing in the top corner declared the files 'Classified by S.H.I.E.L.D', whatever S.H.I.E.L.D was. I made myself a large mug of tea and went to curl up on the large sofa, my shoes abandoned on the floor.

Two hours later, I had read up on Tony Stark, Captain Steve Rodgers (that man had a fiiiinnnneeeee booty), Clint Barton (aka Hawkeye, and 'Pigeon Boy' as Tony had referred to him) and his partner Natasha Romanoff and was just coming to the end of a thrilling tale about the Norse God of Thunder appearing on Earth and being tasered by a Pol-Sci graduate. Darcy Lewis appeared to have some serious girl balls. Once I'd finished reading through the file, I took a sip of my now cold tea and grimaced. I decided to make myself another before I read the final file (the Hulk's) and did so before returning to my seat, wishing Tony hadn't stolen my biscuits. I looked at my watch. Another half an hour and I would be meeting Bruce for lunch, so I'd survive. I'd sent him a quick text earlier telling him to meet me in my new office (because naturally I wanted to show off), and he'd replied with a slightly hesitant seeming 'Ok'. Not even 'okay'! I was a little worried, but I didn't let it phase me too much – sometimes he was a bit down, which I just accepted and made sure to pull back on the innuendo on those days, because he'd snap at me and storm off (yes, I'd learnt that the hard way).

I had made a neat little pile of the files I'd finished on the floor next to my shoes, and I dropped Thor's file onto this before turning to the final one. My tea placed carefully on a piece of paper on the table (I didn't have any coasters yet, and didn't want to make an unnecessary mess), I picked up the final file and read the front.

It felt like my heart had been punched out of my chest.

_Alias: Hulk.  
Given Name: Doctor Bruce Banner_

**~X~**

A knock on the door drew me from my reverie and I slammed the file shut. I'd finished reading it ten minutes ago, but I'd spent the time since them comparing the picture of Bruce stapled to the inside of the front cover to the one of the huge green rage monster alongside it. How could someone so nice become something so...horrific? There was a second knock and I noticed the time.

Crap.

"Jarvis, who is it?" I whispered and his cool British voice replied instantly.

"_Doctor Banner, Miss Monroe_." I swallowed, standing up and smoothing out the creases on my pants on autopilot, ignoring the shoes abandoned on the floor.

"Come in." My voice shook. I was shaking slightly. I just couldn't comprehend what I had just read. Maybe it was all an elaborate prank. I'd heard that Tony was fond of them. Please let it be an elaborate prank. I couldn't bear the thought that Bruce didn't trust me enough to tell me. The door swung open and Bruce walked in, a wide smile on his face.

"Wow. Nice place. I take it Tony promoted you?" I nodded, pressing my lips together in a tight line. "So what's your new job title then?" He ran his hand over the edge of my desk before leaning against it, arms folded, looking at me expectantly.

"Avengers' Media Liason." My voice was little more than a whisper as I stared resolutely at the floor.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that." How could someone so lovely be the Hulk? I had expected it to be some huge thug, not someone like Bruce...not Bruce. I cleared my throat, finally meeting his eyes.

"Avengers' Media Liason. I've spent the morning reading up." His face falling was the most heartbreaking thing I'd ever seen. He ran a hand over his face slowly, clearly hiding his emotions as best he could from me.

"So now you know." He spoke into his palm, his voice muffled. I looked at the file tossed carelessly on the sofa.

"Yeah. Now I know." I tried to keep my voice as gentle as possible. Bruce dropped his hand and looked at me, and he had never seemed so old or so tired in the entire nine months that I had known him.

"So." He seemed at a loss as to what he should say. I sighed and sat down heavily, moving the file and patting the sofa next to me. He warily crossed the room to me, sitting down a good distance away, maintaining a decent gap between us. I turned to him, grateful that I had worn trousers today, which enabled me to cross my legs as I faced him.

"You broke Harlem." I started simply and Bruce's hand immediately jumped to the back of his neck as he nodded. "And uh...smashed a lot of things." He shifted awkwardly. "And saved Tony's life." His hand dropped to his lap as he mirrored me, sitting with his legs crossed between us. Our knees didn't touch.

"One good thing out of a whole lot of bad." He hung his head morosely and I instinctively reached for his hands. He appeared taken aback as I threaded my fingers between his, as if he expected me to treat him like a leper now that I knew his secret. This was the classified area of his file that I'd come across all those months ago.

"I don't believe that."

"The other guy isn't good, Zoey. He's ruled by...anger...and doesn't really take direction very well. Trust me, saving Tony pales into insignificance when it's up alongside all the other stuff." Bruce's voice was dejected and I tightened my hands around his.

"But he didn't turn on the other Avengers. There was that thing in the...Helicarrier?...but when it really mattered, he came through good..._you_ came through good." He shook his head, remaining silent. I extracted my right hand and touched his chin, forcing him to look at me. "Why didn't you tell me?" He laughed bitterly.

"Oh, because that would've come up easily in conversation. 'By the way, if my blood pressure gets too high I go a little green, and by little I mean huge hulking rage monster green, now do you want coffee or hot chocolate?'" I bit my lip, unsure what to say. "For once, I just wanted to be taken at face value, and treated like a normal guy, and engage in some harmless flirting and not be treated like I was a grenade that could go off at any second. Can you understand why I would want that?"

"But why would I treat you any different?" He raised an eyebrow derisively. "Seriously, Bruce. I get that the first couple of times we hung out, you'd wanna keep it to yourself. But I thought you trusted me, and I certainly trust you. If you've kept the green guy under control all this time we've been hanging out, why would I not trust you to continue that clean streak? It doesn't make any difference...not to me." His brown eyes blazed with something I couldn't identify.

"It should, Zoey! Don't you understand – I'm _constantly_ battling the other guy, keeping him at bay, and if stop concentrating, even for a second, I could lose it and he could take over. That should terrify you enough to send you running to the hills." He smacked my hand away from his face lightly and I took the hint.

"Bruce, I'm not scared of you. I'm not dumb enough to not be wary of the other guy, but you? You wouldn't hurt a fly. And I don't think you would hurt me." Bruce leaned forward suddenly, his eyes only a couple of inches from mine.

"I'm not the one who would be hurting you. And I should have removed all possibility of the other guy hurting you long ago." He stood up abruptly, pulling his hands away from mine. I didn't watch him as he crossed the room to the door, but when I heard it open I spoke.

"You'd be hurting me now. If you just walked away. If you pushed me away." A pause. I couldn't even hear him breathing. Then...the door swung shut. Footsteps in the room. He returned to my line of sight, sitting gingerly on the edge of the sofa. "The fact that I know now doesn't change how I'm going to treat you. It doesn't change anything. We all have our secrets. Mine's the fact that my ex posted sex tapes that he took without my permission on the internet. Yours is a little greener." His eyebrows raised at my omission and I reached for his hands again. "So now you know." I echoed his words from earlier and he smiled briefly. "Please. I'm not going to let the other guy affect this." I gestured between the two of us. "Please don't you let him." Bruce looked indecisive and I felt my lips slide into a pout.

"Well if you're gonna look at me like that..." I grinned and threw my arms around his neck, feeling him laugh as his arms wrapped around my waist. We hugged for a moment and I idly ran my fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck. He pulled back slightly and I rested my forehead against his.

"You never did say congratulations on my promotion." I nudged his nose against mine slightly, making it clear how he could phrase his congratulations, but I kept my distance, letting him make the first move. His eyes dropped, looking at my lips, but he shook his head minutely. I tried not to let the rejection get to me, and I smiled happily as he pressed his lips to my forehead, lingering for just a couple of seconds too long for it to be classed as a _friendly_ kiss.

"Well done. I'm looking forward to working with you in the future." I debated just kissing him and throwing it all to the wind. And I decided to go for it. I mean, we'd been tiptoeing around it since my birthday, and that was nearly three months ago. I leaned in and angled my face towards his, and for a moment, I swear he leaned in too. But then his hands were on my cheeks and he pushed me away lightly. "Zoey..." His voice was coloured with regret and I shuffled back on the sofa slightly, putting some more space between us, looking away, embarrassed. "No, don't be like that...please...look, you know why now." I frowned at him. "The other guy. It's hard to stay in control. Yeah, when I get angry or hurt, then he appears. But...well, if my heart rate goes up too much...it's difficult. And you..." He shrugged helplessly.

"Are you saying I get your heart racing?" I managed to infuse a teasing tone, and he blushed. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Doctor Banner."

"It's not like you didn't know." He was rubbing the back of his neck again. "So...lunch?" My stomach grumbled in response and we laughed (and as cheesy as it is, the sounds harmonised perfectly). "Come on then. And it's my treat, today. Because of your promotion." He stood up and held his hand out to me. I slipped my shoes on and joined him, grabbing my blazer on the way out of the door. My mother's voice echoed in my head, telling me to be careful around the man who gave Jekyll and Hyde a run for their money, but I pushed it away, feeling safer than I ever had done before with my hand in his.

**~X~**

We arrived back at my office, laughing as we shook the rain from our hair. It had started to pour suddenly when we were on the way back, and we were both drenched. It hadn't escaped my notice that Bruce's shirt was clinging to his chest in a very appealing way, and his nervous swallow made it clear that he had definitely seen how the rain had made my shirt partially see through. I pulled my soaked blazer off and threw it over the back of the sofa next to the heater to dry. Bruce looked around the room, pulling open one of the filing cabinet drawers and leaning over to check out the fridge.

"I suppose you're planning on buying some stuff for the office then?" I nodded enthusiastically.

"Well I've had a pay rise, so I can afford it, plus I've still got a load of books and stuff in boxes at home that I don't have room for, so I can bring them in here." He sat down at my desk, sliding himself forward to look at the selection of photos in frames that I'd already arranged to one side next to the pencil pot. There was one of me and my parents at my high school prom, my grandparents and I at my graduation, a picture of me and a group of girlfriends drinking cocktails on a night out for Tori's 21st – we were all dressed up in different costumes that weren't at all practical but were fun to look at. There was another of me as a bridesmaid at my older brother's wedding alongside one of me holding his baby daughter ten months later. Most of my family lived out of town, but they were nice little reminders that I was loved. I pointed to each one and explained them to Bruce, leaning over the back of the chair, my damp hair hanging forward and tickling his neck. I dissolved into a fit of giggles while trying to tell a story about Tori, a sailor and Jaegermeister, leaning my head against his shoulder as I laughed and that's how Tony Stark found us five minutes later.

"Am I interrupting something here?" The door swung shut behind the billionaire as I looked up, still stifling giggles.

"Not at all, Tony. Zoey was just telling a story. I couldn't quite follow it, but I get the impression you had to be there." I snorted in a very unladylike manner as Bruce stood up. "I'll leave you two to do whatever you need to do. Tony, swing by the lab later, would you?" He stopped by the other man and gave him a hard look. Tony nodded, conveying what looked to be an apology with his eyes. "Bye, Zoey." He waved as he slipped out of the door. Tony grinned at me.

"So I take it you two are still in the honeymoon phase?" I rolled my eyes and looked pointedly at the pile of files on the floor by the sofa. "Ah. I'm guessing you had a big ol' heart-to-heart where Bruce told you to stay away from him because if he gets too excited the Hulk will come out to play?" I started to protest, thought about it and then nodded. "Sounds like him. Ignore him. He's just fixated on being alone because he blames himself for everything the other guy does. He needs to let off a little steam. In more ways than one." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me.

"Shouldn't Bruce be the judge of that?" I picked the files up and opened the drawer in my desk, sliding them in and locking it again.

"He's far too masochistic. By the way, I like the wet shirt look. You should rock it all the time." I glared at him as I folded my arms across my chest, restricting his view of my blue bra. "Okay, okay, fine. Right, let's get you up to speed on the gang. We'll start off with Captain Spandex...he needs to get laid even more than Bruce does..."

**I started writing a phone call between Zoey and her mum at this point, but the chapter's long enough as it is so I've taken it out. As a reward for your support, if you review this chapter I'll send you that scene (provided you're not anonymous and don't have PM turned off). Let me know what you think! ~Saskia xxx**


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